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QUICKENING CALIBAN 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


BY 

J. COMPTON-RICKETT 

li 

AUTHOR OF “the CHRIST THAT IS TO BE: 


A LATTER-DAY ROMANCE.” 



THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. 

104 AND 106 Fourth Avenue 



Copyright, 1893, by 

THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. 


All rights reserved. 


THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS, 
RAHWAY, N. J. 


THE 


QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


I. 

In the tropics Life is supreme, and the change of day to night only 
shifts the scene, but does not check the drama. Life stalks across the 
stage, the lion of the play, followed by his shadow, the lean, hungry 
jackal — Death. 

The morning surged along the river valley like a 
tidal wave, and Paul Ruefold put out the lamp, as he 
could now see the African village on the opposite 
shore. The cluster of huts with a featherwork of 
forest at their back, the large canoes with their 
jagged stems in air, stood out clearly, and the scat" 
tered barking and cackling showed that the village 
was awake, and that the work of the day had begun. 
His letters were finished, and were ready for the 
mail-bag. In a few hours the fussy frail steam barge 
would come down stream and tether to the bank. 
It would make up its fuel from the pile of wood 
and dried pods ; the stern-wheel would again butt it 
forward on its voyage to the ocean. When the mail 
had been flung aboard, Europe would be out of 


2 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

reach for another term of three weeks. Paul had 
risen early to write the most important of his letters 
in the cool of the hour before the dawn. The work 
was done, but it had taken his thoughts far beyond 
the mission compound, and as he glanced at the 
mirror fixed to the wall, his sight traveled behind 
the lean gray face reflected there to a scene of five- 
and-twenty years earlier. 

He saw a town in far-off England, where the 
chimneys rose thick as the stems in a bamboo- 
brake. It was Sunday, and the pall of smoke had 
lifted from the valley and suffered the hillside 
to show a faded green. Paul was a young man 
of four-and-twenty, and with him walked a girl 
of his own age. They were returning from their 
afternoon classes at the chapel school, and were 
standing opposite to a vacant plot of ground. 
Paul could see it distinctly — the small square piece, 
cut like a notch out of a world of brick. A building 
had been demolished and the ground was rough and 
uneven, with here and there a tuft of grass, an old 
boot, and a fragment of crockery. Yet it was an 
enchanted spot to him, for there he drew the girl 
toward him and spoke to her of his fears and hopes. 
He did not like his father’s trade, and had resolved 
to be a missionary. Would she be willing to leave 
the comfort of Laburnum Villa, the joy of the 
chapel services, and the excitement of week-night 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


3 


meetings, for the wildness of the African desert or 
the loneliness of an island in the Pacific? She 
would do all that for the sake of Paul, and so the 
betrothal was sealed. 

He followed the story. He offered himself to 
one of the great societies, and was accepted on 
probation. The romance of the unknown dazzled 
him, and the dull round of a town of forges and 
chimneys repelled. Now and again a breath from 
the stainless snow of Alpine heights awoke in 
him a nobler emotion. He obtained an appoint- 
ment in the district of an African river. Two 
societies, instead of competing, had combined their 
forces, and they gave the head settlement the 
name of Union Vineyard Station. Here Paul had 
remained for more than twenty years, and had risen 
to the position of director of the district. Fever 
had assailed him, but he gradually hardened to its 
assaults, and although it never failed to return like 
old temptations, its power lacked intensity. Men 
died like flies about him, and others, broken by the 
climate, were forced to escape for their lives. Yet 
he remained, the master of the situation, with all the 
threads in his hand, the most trusted agent of the 
Council. 

The girl in the midland town was never ex- 
posed to the risk of the climate, for his letters 
grew fewer, and at last ceased. Perhaps it was the 


4 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

best for her ; but her resignation was not complete 
until she knew, without doubt, that Paul had lost 
his half-caste wife after two years of married life. 
For of course there was another woman in the case, 
and the strange sad face of his long-lost wife now 
held the mirror. She had visited the station on her 
way to France from the Romanist Mission higher 
up the river. Paul was beguiled at the sight of her, 
and married her before difficulties could be raised. 
She had accepted marriage as a refuge from the 
French convent which awaited her. There was a 
strange story about her origin, which Paul would 
have forgotten had it been possible. 

Many years ago a party of traders had pushed up 
a tributary stream which came from the far north to 
join the great river. They never returned, and it was 
reported that they had all been massacred. So far 
the story was common enough in African explora- 
tion. But the native account described their captors 
as men of large stature, with straight hair and light 
brown skin, entirely unlike the Bantu type. They 
were said to have been on a raid from their own land, 
a cleared and elevated region cut off from the world 
by the vast tangled forest which no white man had 
penetrated. It was further stated in the native 
account that one person had been saved, the 
daughter of a white trader. Ten years later a child 
was brought to the doors of the Catholic Mission in 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 5 

a native canoe. The Sisters were amazed to see a 
half-caste girl about five years old. The boatmen 
stated that they had received the child at a village 
far up the northern stream. The bearers of the 
child through the forest said that she had been given 
to them by a woman of a different race, with instruc- 
tions to take her down to the Catholic Mission 
hundreds of miles to the south, which, however, she 
described to them. The boatmen were promised a 
large reward if they brought back a piece of paper, 
written by the Sisters in their own language, as a 
proof that the child had been given over safe and 
sound. The Sisters found a stray word or two of 
French embedded in the unknown language of the 
child. There were traces of the Lord s Prayer, and 
of the names of Christ and of the Virgin Mother. 
The Sisters could not get any account of herself from 
the little one. The mention of votre m^re 
kindled a flash of remembrance, but only set free a 
torrent of explanation in her own wild speech. So 
the sisters set to work to teach her French and 
English, bade her forget the past, cleared her mind 
of the rubbish which was useless to them, and built 
upon the site the clean fabric of the Catholic faith. 
As she grew into womanhood her beauty startled 
them, and they thought it wise to send her away to 
France that her vocation might be determined by 
the authorities in the mother-country. She had 


6 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

learned the tradition of her birth from the children 
of the mission school, and the sharp little imps had 
not failed to tell her that she was neither black nor 
white, and worse than either. The Sisters had 
striven in vain to charm the sadness out of her heart 
with their caresses. She was quite docile, and yet 
secretly resisted the proposed journey across the 
black water. She knew that she belonged to Africa, 
and yet there was no kindred with whom she could 
claim fellowship. But the Sisters urged her to go, 
as they could not do any more for her, and knew 
not how to shape her future. They dreaded, most 
of all, the impudent stare of the white traders and 
officials, and yet were not prepared to give her the 
protection of their own garb. 

At the end of two years Paul was alone again, for 
his half-caste wife died, and their only child, a girl, 
was taken in charge by the wives of his fellow mis- 
sionaries. As the girl developed into the early 
maidenhood of a tropical country she was more with 
him, and for the last two years had acted as the 
mistress of his small household. She was now a 
woman, and it was about her future that his thoughts 
had been running in his letters to England. He had 
no anxiety in money matters, for he was not a poor 
man. He had saved a little from his salary ; a 
legacy in England had come to him ; and he was not 
guileless of private trading. He could provide for 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 7 

Christina sufficiently well, but there was more that 
the girl now required — the company of other young 
people, the refinement of a life in Europe, which 
neither the books nor the culture which he had been 
at the pains to give her could supply. She was well- 
educated — he had done most of the work himself ; 
but she must go from him for a couple of years — 
perhaps never to return. 

To do him justice he felt the wrench acutely, 
but did not waver in his purpose. He might go 
with her if he willed it, but he shrank from an 
England which had grown foreign to him. He 
had no interest beyond seas which the budget 
of news did not satisfy, and he preferred to re- 
main at his work, the model missionary. What 
was the worth of that work ? He gave a searching 
look round the room. It was the dwelling of a 
modern Englishman, and betwixt him and the 
native yawned an impassable gulf. They might live 
side by side for centuries, but their ideas, their racial 
distinction, would remain. On the wooden walls of 
the chamber were fixed trophies of native arms and 
colored pictures from the London illustrated papers. 
Upon a shelf squatted the latest African god, rest- 
ing on its way to the missionary museum, and the 
Gospel of St. Luke in some outland dialect was 
tossed just below it. A tapering spear with a 
poisoned barb and a large English sunshade stood 


8 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

together in one corner. On the floor were strewn 
rush mats, made in the next village, and a carpet 
from Yorkshire. The higher and the lower met, but 
would not mingle. To Paul himself the African was 
still a mystery, and it was only the last man fresh 
from the training college who could solve the prob- 
lem in six weeks. On a ledge above his desk stood 
a row of small bottles. They were sedatives and 
narcotics: but each drug stood to Paul for a human 
life. The men who had come out full of fervor had 
their hopes and purposes throttled by the fever. 
If they escaped from its clutch, they solaced them- 
selves with a favorite drug at their lonely outposts, 
until the friend who had soothed them became a 
foe, that dulled their powers and slew them. He 
gave the name of a missionary to each little glass, 
and when he had gone through the line, added a 
spirit bottle to the list of the destroyers. 

In the range of the station there were many con- 
verts from heathenism, but nearly all of them were 
employed either directly or indirectly by the Mission, 
and paid from its funds. The native teachers, 
whom he had trained from youth, were the most 
intelligent, and proved to be evangelists after a 
fashion ; but the distant converts abated little of their 
natural ferocity, and joined Christian observance 
with pagan rite in a bewildering confusion. Paul 
remembered that the great missionary of the early 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 9 

Church carried the new Gospel to peoples of his 
own grade in culture, whose religion was falling to 
pieces about them. Through the rents of their 
ruined temples it was not difficult to point them to 
the stars. He consoled himself in failure by think- 
ing that St. Paul would have moved, more slowly, 
races whose religion, rude as it seemed, was yet 
alive, and the devilry of whose worship touched the 
supernatural. A respect for the white man, and a 
faculty of imitation, enabled the black man to put 
on the clean garment of Christianity, but the skin 
beneath remained unchanged. Paul had looked into 
the black face for twenty years without finding an 
answer to the riddle. Through every night the 
forest had moaned and muttered, and in the deeper 
silence of the quiet air the rapids miles away had 
uttered a low cry of entreaty, as if the great dumb 
land was straining after articulate speech with which 
to guide its teachers. Paul admitted to his own 
heart that little real work had been done, but he 
wrote his report and made up the statistics. 

His musing was interrupted by a light step in the 
doorway. It was followed by other quick steps 
which beat a rhythm on the floor. Someone was 
dancing behind his chair, and, lifting his eyes to the 
mirror, he saw a tall, slim girl in English dress, with 
a short stabbing, native spear in her hand. She was 
treading the steps of a war dance, her body swaying 


lO the quickening of CALIBAN: 

to the measure of a song unsung. She twirled the 
spear at intervals and pointed it with a threatening 
movement at the wall. Paul frowned at the picture 
in the glass, and then, turning in his chair, said to 
her, Why do you disgrace yourself, Christina, by 
aping these wild customs? Can you find nothing 
better than that horrible tool with which to give me 
your morning’s greeting ? ” 

The girl stopped, put down the weapon, and was 
kneeling by her father in a minute. 

Dear dads, I am sorry, but I meant no harm in- 
deed. I am just like the [River Queen when they 
stoke her furnaces and don’t start right away. I am 
obliged to blow off some steam.” 

His face softened, and he stroked her head. 
“ Chris, my child, you are a woman, and not the 
little dancing girl who used to delight her father 
with her antics. But I shall call you the daughter of 
Herodias if you copy dances used to excite men to 
bloodshed. Where do you see such things?” 

'' Among the people at holiday times.” 

Surely you do not attend, Christina ; you are too 
much in the village — there are sights and sounds — 
why does not Mrs. Tartilt warn you, as I asked her 
to do?” 

Why, father, I am the daughter of a missionary, 
and it is my duty to go among the people. Mrs. 
Tartilt says she was brought up in very different 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


II 


scenes, but having married a missionary she can’t 
afford to be squeamish. The blacks are not like us. 
I have known them all my life, of course, and look 
upon them, poor things, as superior animals.” 

“Mrs. Tartilt is a superior animal!” exclaimed 
Paul. “You should not attempt any work beyond 
the compound. There will be an end to all this very 
soon. I want you to go on a visit to England in six 
weeks.” 

“ Why should I go ? ” asked Christina, with eyes 
wide open. “ I am quite contented to stay with 
you. I don’t want to go there or anywhere else.” 

“ Nor do I wish to lose you, my child; but you 
ought to see your own land. Besides, you should 
learn English ways and manners.” 

“ I know all about them, father. Let me see : 
‘ Charlotte Bronte,’ ‘Mrs. Gaskell,’ ‘John Halifax,’ 
‘Anthony Trollope,’ ‘Mrs. Oliphant.’ I could dis- 
cover secrets in haunted houses, make tea for the 
curate, and accept an offer quite prettily if I were 
lucky enough to have a suitor.” 

. “ You will never get an invitation to a country 
house, or a chance of being haunted by the curate, 
if someone does not take you in hand. Now I want 
to tell you about your relations, and the plan I 
propose.” 

“ I did not know that we had relations — at least 
Mrs. Mungrass told me that my mother’s country 


12 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


cousins grew tails ; but certainly — of course, you 
must have them in England/' 

Really, Christina, it is high time to send you 
away from the silly gossip of the Mission Station," 
said Paul, flushing scarlet. “The twaddling scandal 
of an English town is forced into rank flower in this 
hot soil. I propose to send you to London for a few 
months ; you will see new faces, make new friends, 
and wear new dresses." 

“ Mrs. Tartilt has all the latest patterns in her six- 
penny paper, and cuts out splendidly," said the girl 
in a whisper. 

“ Now listen," continued Paul, without taking 
notice of the interruption. “ I have a brother in 
London, a little older than I am. His name is Mar- 
cus, and he has a chapel somewhere in the East End. 
He is a good man, and you should go to him in any 
trouble ; but I do not wish you to live with him. 
My cousin, Gregory Fallowfett, is a lawyer in large 
practice, and lives in the West of London. He has 
a clever wife, and a daughter about your own age. 
I have written to Fallowfett ; I think he will take 
you, and I have asked him to be my executor. If 
anything happened he would look after you, and all 
would be well." 

“What is the matter, father?" exclaimed Chris- 
tina, looking closely at him. “You are not feeling 
ill, are you ? Your hands are cold ; you are not look- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 13 

ing well. Why do you work so much at night ? It 
is most unhealthy. Are you very tired, or have you 
a touch of fever again ? 

Just a touch of fever, I fancy, dear Chris; but I 
shall throw it off, as I have succeeded in doing a 
score of times before. Let us go into the other 
room and have our breakfast."' 

The tough traveler made light of the attack ; he 
would go out, shake himself, and so be free from his 
bondage. This time, however, the fever proved 
stubborn ; the usual remedies failed, and a common 
complication set in. A week later Christina had 
kissed his cold cheek, and he had been carried to the 
small graveyard, thickly sewn with crosses, on the 
neighboring hill. 


II. 


Grief is not the offspring of the accidents of life. She is only the 
guest of a day, and has to make room for the interests which throng 
the highway of the years. She makes a home amid the wastes and 
ruins of existence. 

As the steamer made its way down the river, Mrs. 
Tartilt tried to comfort Christina by calling atten- 
tion to the shortcoming of the mourning garments 
which she had hastily put together for the bereaved 
girl. '' Black stuff, and plenty of it, we keep at the 
Mission, for, ‘ in the midst of life we are in death,' 
in Africa especially," she explained. “ Don't let 
your fine friends laugh at us, but get two or three 
new frocks before you show yourself." 

Christina murmured her indifference to the sub- 
ject. 

‘‘ You are indeed a lucky girl to be going to 
England, although I am sorry for your loss. 
Once I was afraid you would marry a young mis- 
sionary and settle out here ; but that danger is 
past." 

‘‘ Why should I not marry a missionary ? " asked 
Christina, a little roused. '‘You married one your- 
self, and I am the daughter of one." 

" It is a poor life, without honor or reward. Some 


14 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 15 

of our children go to the graveyard, and others to 
Europe/' She hesitated, for the girl looked serious. 

I know that the Gospel must be preached to all 
the world, but it is hard for those who have to do it. 
The good people at home, who give to the collec- 
tions, grumble at us for not making progress," she 
continued. It is easy enough to give the guinea a 
year, but there is no reward for the sacrifices we 
have to make. A missionary is always a missionary, 
and when he returns to England nobody wants 
him." 

You always appeared comfortable, Mrs. Tartilt." 

“ The place is tolerable," replied her companion, 
^‘and would be better if the Church of England 
mission families were more friendly, and the mail to 
England were quicker. I shall be glad enough to 
bid good-by to it. Men do not suffer the trouble 
and inconvenience we have to endure. Colored girls 
are cheap, but lazy and dirty. You could not expect 
a woman born and bred in Islington to take kindly 
to Africa. My hope is that my body may rest at 
Finchley, in my mother's grave." 

My hope is to come back," said Christina 
warmly. I belong to Africa and love her." 

Of course, my dear, I quite forgot, you are not 
altogether of English blood. Be careful, Christina, 
to keep secret that story about your mother." 

‘‘ Why should I ? " asked the girl, lifting her head 


1 6 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

proudly. ‘‘ I am not ashamed of my mother nor of 
her birth. If I have some warm African blood in 
my veins, I am the better for it.’* 

That would not matter at all,” replied the other. 

It is not that, it is ” and she stopped. 

That my grandfather is a light colored native of 
Africa.” 

‘‘ You have never been told, I see,” said Mrs. Tar- 
tilt. ‘‘ I hardly like to tell you myself, but you are 
leaving the country and, perhaps, ought to know. 
You might hear it accidentally away there. The 
story is — I don’t vouch for it — that your mother’s 
father cannot be called a human being.” 

Is that all ? ” retorted Christina with a little pout 
of scorn. I have heard that over and over again. 
Father would hardly grant souls to some heathen 
tribes ; he called them worse than brutes.” 

Well, my dear, you can make as light of it as 
you like, the lighter the better, but there is a race 
somewhere beyond the forest who are not reckoned 
to belong to the human family. They are intelli- 
gent, these people, and in some respects the same as 
other men. That is the story told by both the 
Arabs and the natives. The Arabs say that once 
they were men, but for their wicked conduct Allah 
degraded them to the brute level and refused them 
souls. The natives pretend that they were apes who, 
in the course of generations, grew into men, but 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. I7 

that they lost their way, and now are neither white 
nor black, man nor beast/' 

likely story to tell, Mrs. Tartilt. If there 
were any truth in it some traveler would have told 
us long ago." 

Don't look at me so angrily, Christina. I have 
only repeated the story as it is given round the 
station. No white man has ever seen them, or 
returned to tell the tale ; they live quite off the 
trade routes, and there is nothing but curiosity which 
would tempt an explorer to look them up. You are 
not cross with me for repeating the rumor ? " 

But Christina felt hot and offended. I knew 
there was a mystery," she replied, and that I had 
some native blood in my veins — I can feel it ; but 
to believe this absurd story " 

My dear girl, don't believe it ; put it out of 
your mind. Believe me, however, when I tell you 
that your appearance contradicts the idea of yotir 
being a quadroon. Whatever may be your ancestry, 
your mother's father was not of the negro type." 

How do I look ?" asked Christina, turning a full 
face to her critic. 

Exactly like any other English girl when you 
are speaking," said Mrs. Tartilt ; but when your 
face is at rest, and you are lost in thought — well, 
you are just a little uncanny. I can’t describe it in 
any other way, Christina." 


1 8 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

At last the steamer reached the river’s mouth, 
and unloaded at the wooden pier that belonged to 
the factory. There were several warehouses — one 
or two buildings flying different flags where the con- 
suls lived or died — and a long, low wooden house 
which carried the name of Hotel.” Under the 
veranda, which projected far in front, two or three 
men were sitting at a table, drinking and playing 
cards. Somewhere at the back there was a native 
town, but* it was out of sight ; and the only sound, 
besides a burst of laughter or an altercation, came 
from the beach a few hundred yards distant. The 
sharp thud of a wave, followed by the slow dreary 
noise of its backward sweep, told of the smashing 
into surf of the long ocean rollers. Looking sea- 
ward, the white water was crossing and breaking 
upon the shoals beyond the river mouth, and 
further out on the peaceful blue a great steamer 
rested, surrounded by native boats. As Mrs. 
Tartilt and Christina walked past the veranda and 
entered the hotel, the group of card-players gave 
them an uncompromising stare. In the room on 
the ground floor, where they rested, a lattice only 
divided them from the party outside. The men 
had interrupted their game to refill their glasses, 
and while the black waiter was going to and fro 
with their orders they were talking. 

Nice slim slip that ; I suppose the dowdy old 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 19 

girl with her belongs to a Mission. Where do they 
come from ? ** 

Don't know — up river somewhere. The she- 
missionary always makes paint and feathers look 
fashionable by contrast. I can’t think what rag fair 
supplies them. You were telling me about your 
latest catch ? ” 

Oh, I’m always on the move : an agent for 
entertainments is bound to be spry. Well, you 
know the ‘ Happy Valley ’ in the West of London 
— don’t you, though ; it’s a sort of a superior music- 
hall, and the upper classes go there pretty thick. 
Halecroft, the manager, is a friend of mine, and he 
says to me, ‘ Bullock Sopp, I want a new sensation. 
None of your two-headed curiosities,’ he says, ‘ but 
something quite fresh. You must throw us in this 
time a bit of science or history. I want to rouse a 
discussion — a row among the doctors, and such like. 
They must quarrel (wer it in the papers, and then it 
will draw.’ I thought I could find him a new 
medium or spiritualist, but I could not pick up a 
good specimen. Then in the very nick, a corre- 
spondent over here wrote me about a brownie who 
was caught young and brought up by the mission 
fellows. He has chucked over the parsons, got on 
the spree, and is going fast back to his own particu- 
lar devil. He can be got cheap, and, if he can be 
kept sober for six months, there’s money in him.” 


20 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


What do you call him ?*' 

“Let me see; here it is — Forest Bokrie. The 
Dutch sold him to the Mission, and they gave him 
his outlandish name,'* replied Bullock Sopp. 

“Where do your science and history come in?" 
asked his friend. 

“ I forgot to tell you. The doctors who have 
seen him say that he is a bit unfinished ; not got 
comfortably through his evolution. You see ‘ Dis- 
covery of the Missing Link : the Ape-Man,' that 
will pay for posters." 

“ I have heard something about it," said his 
friend, who was a local trader, “ but I don't follow 
out your plan quite clearly." 

“You don't know the business; it can be worked 
up first rate. Introduce the man in European dress 
— short speech, a recitation in English. Next scene, 
a reversion to the primitive type — that's the phrase. 
Stage darkened, a forest s(^ne, enter an ape 
creature which lodges in trees, and swings from 
bough to bough. A lecturer will give an account 
of its development ; plenty of Darwin. Then pri- 
vate interviews with the doctors ; they will dispute 
over a bone or a slope of the skull. Clergy 
will thunder at us, and doctors will join to fight 
the parsons. All this will do us good, and the 
turnstiles will merrily groan. I see my way dis- 
tinctly." 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


21 


‘‘ I dare say you do. Ta, ta ; look me up on your 
way back ; I must make up my mail.'' 

'' Be quick, Christina, the boat will be ready 
directly and I am sure you have had enough of this 
place," put in Mrs. Tartilt at this point. God 
bless you, my child ; you will forgive me for not 
seeing you on board. I do not mind going out, but 
I dread coming back through the surf on the top of 


a wave. 


III. 


She. — Listen, not to the bells of cows and goats, which make a 
tingling about these high pastures, but to the babbling of waterfalls 
in the chasms of the glacier, and to the echoing roll of ice which 
breaks away into the abyss. Look at those miles of snow which 
reach upward to the blue, hard as granite, yet as sensitive to color 
change as a girl’s cheek. Do not the sight and sound win you to a 
faith in a beautiful intelligence ? 

He . — How should they touch me ? A block of ice on the slab of a 
fishmonger’s shop wastes by the same law, and has the same sympathy 
with color. I do not submit to be bullied by the accident of size. 
The true wonder is in the capacity we bring to its enjoyment. Your 
imagination gives you wings, but probably the goat with her pert 
stare, and the cow with her soft melancholy observations, reach all the 
essential meaning of the scene. 

The sunlight was struggling into the dining 
room of a large house in a London square. It was 
the late autumn sunlight, chastened by mist, and 
had the diffused softness of an illuminated trans- 
parency. From the window a few white trees could 
be seen fading off into uncertain outlines. London 
had now her foot on the demon of noise, and from 
the smooth roads the muffled sound of traffic came 
with the softness of the mist. There was breakfast 
on the table, and the mistress of the house, Mrs. 
Fallowfett, was filling the cups. Before the fire, in 
a lounge-chair, sat Gregory Fallowfett, her husband, 
reading his letters. There was another seat placed 


22 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


23 


for a member of the family who had not yet joined 
them. When the servant left the room Gregory 
pushed a letter across the table. 

“You will see that the girl will be here in a few 
days. I must go to Plymouth, I suppose.” 

“Must we really have her here?” said his wife, 
in reply. “ Let her own people — Marcus Ruefold, 
her uncle — take her in. We can ask the girl for a 
visit, and can please ourselves about the length of it. 
If she is nice, I am sure I shall be glad to keep her 
for a time.” 

“ What do you mean by nice ? ” asked her hus- 
band, and he picked up the letter and began reading 
it again. “ She is a well-taught girl, and under- 
stands English manners ; poor Ruefold took care of 
that. It was his ambition to do well for his daugh- 
ter. He told me in a former letter that she was a 
comely lass ; what more do you want ? ” 

“ We can dispense with her good looks if she does 
not bring any of the customs of the bush into a 
London drawing room,” said Mrs. Fallowfett. 

“ She will want all her good looks, poor child,” 
remarked her husband. 

“ I hope that Vesper will take to her, or it will be 
awkward,” said Mrs. Fallowfett. 

“ Vesper will surely be glad of a companion. We 
have spoiled her, it is true. An only child is bound 
to be spoilt, but she is not selfish.” 


24 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

‘‘ Really you are as dense as the fog is this morn- 
ing, Gregory. Cannot you understand that a mar- 
riageable girl does not want a good-looking friend to 
follow her everywhere ? What advantage is there 
to us in bothering about this child ? She is neither 
penniless nor friendless; if she were, I can always 
borrow votes for an asylum.’' 

'^You must not treat everything in life as a matter 
of profit and loss,” returned her husband. Rue- 
fold was my cousin. My own mother was sister to 
his father. I did not care much for the man, but 
his death in the wilderness touched me. The only 
child, a girl, the same age as Vesper — an orphan. 
I may be a man of the world, but I cannot harden 
my heart against natural emotion.” 

** So you will do a foolish act in order to gratify a 
passing spasm of feeling,” said his wife. You will 
be home in time for my ‘ evening,’ I suppose. Do 
not forget that I have asked Sir Bathcourt Blizzard 
specially for you.” 

What is that for ? ” 

He is on the other side in your big case, you 
said ; and as he can be very disagreeable to his 
opponents, I thought that I might get him into a 
pleasant mood for you.” 

How can you be so childish, Isabel, to imagine 
such a scheme ?” 

‘‘ Then the Bishop of Mercia will be here, and is 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


25 


anxious to know your opinion — without fee, of 
course ; but that is fair enough — on the late judg- 
ment in the case of ” 

That is enough ; I will go to Plymouth, cer- 
tainly.*' 

Yet you think I am a selfish woman when I am 
constantly contriving something for the good of my 
family.’* 

“ You ask your bishop whether you will not get a 
reward in his future world if you do a kind act to an 
orphan girl,** said Gregory. 

You know quite well that I do not profess to be 
a religious woman — not yet, at least, until Vesper is 
married, and you have got your judgeship.** 

Then why ask your bishop to come here ? ** 
Because he is a person of position and may be of 
use to us. Besides, a certain respect for religion is 
a necessary example to servants and others. I go 
to church because it is seemly for your wife to do 
so.** 

Two thousand years ago you would have wor- 
shiped the gods of the household for the same 
reason.** 

Perhaps I should ; human nature is not changed 
much, I should say. We must make the most of 
the life we live in, and settle with the other life 
when we enter it, if we ever do.** 

That is sound philosophy for a man, and I hold 


26 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

it as a working theory; but you women are not con 
sistent. All of you have a secret superstition hiding 
round the corner. It is a survival from the ancient 
time of woman's subjection, when she had ^ to call 
in a new world to redress the balance of the old.' " 

Well, I cannot be wrong in caring for the present 
interests of my husband and daughter," persisted 
Mrs. Fallowfett. 

I ought to agree to that ; but we will suppose 
that Vesper is married and I have got my judgeship, 
what then ? By the way, I am inclined to think that 
my judgeship will cost me a good slice of income. 
Never mind. I have lost bloom, and am too stale 
for the bar, we will assume. Having hoisted me up 
to the bench, what then?" 

We shall not have exhausted the interest of life 
even then," suggested Mrs. Fallowfett. 

“ Yes, we shall. Like the bears at the Gardens, 
we shall have climbed the pole notch by notch, and 
at the top, with open mouth, we shall be describing 
languid circles in the empty air in the hope of get- 
ting something more. You will then go in for 
celestial buns — I know your habit of mind — and will 
reproach me for my sordid and earthly taste." 

The door opened and a young girl entered with 
a soft and tired step. She was certainly a pretty 
girl, but a little faded in her youth, and was precise 
and restrained even in her morning greeting to her 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


27 


parents. Her father touched her cheek and turned to 
his paper as if he were disturbed, but wished to con- 
ceal the fact. Her mother handed her the break- 
fast, and then asked about her night's rest. She 
had slept fairly well, after three o'clock. She was 
rather tired, but would feel better as the day ad- 
vanced. Mathers took so long with her work over- 
night ; the maid was sleepy and stupid. Yes, and 
the dance was a slow one ; there was nobody for 
whom one cared. No," with a faint blush and 
a quick glance at her mother, Mr. Vincent Grace- 
broke was not there." 

What are you about to-day and to-morrow. 
Vesper?" asked her father, still looking at his 
papers with apparent unconcern. 

^‘Too much, too long," he remarked, when his 
daughter had run through the list of her engage- 
ments by day and night. ‘‘ You will lose you health 
and your spirits. You are working harder than a 
boy would do in chambers — for what good ? You 
do not even enjoy the life." 

She must be seen where other people go," put in 
her mother. 

She will be seen where other people go — in the 
coffin, if we do not mind," retorted Gregory. Drop 
some of these engagements, my girl, and takes 
Christina about town on a country cousin round." 

Then he told her of the approaching arrival of 


28 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

their visitor at Plymouth. Vesper promised graci- 
ously to do all in her power to make London enjoy- 
able to the cousin from Africa, and then protested 
against the idea that she was suffering in health. 

Mamma is quite right, I am not really hurt by it ; 
and one must follow others and be seen at the usual 
places. It is not all pleasure, I know, but if you do 
not pursue it like a profession you fall out of line, 
as barristers would do if they went away in term 
time.'' 

At the same moment a young man was engaged 
at his breakfast in his rooms, overlooking a broad 
graveled space. On the left, the chapel of his inn 
was emerging from the sea of mist, and on the right 
hand an inclosure of trees and grass recalled the 
green meadows far away. The quadrangle was 
quiet enough, but on the other side of the buildings 
London roared along the busy street, beat against 
the ancient gateway, and scoured beneath the prim 
old windows. Vincent Gracebroke opened his 
letters, read them carelessly, but lingered over one 
which contained a card of invitation. Mrs. Gregory 
Fallowfett was ^^at home" on a certain evening, 
that was all. He looked at it twice, lighted his pipe 
and fell into thought. He had his life before him ; 
he was not yet five-and-twenty ; fortune had favored 
him ; he was healthy, well made, well off. He had 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


29 


fair ability, a taste for work, and no responsibility to 
hamper him. No great passion had ruffled the sur- 
face of his mind or disturbed his appetite. He did 
not care for excess, and this had, so far, kept him 
virtuous. He had a theory of life, and he wanted 
to keep in sight of it. He could afford to take 
things easily for a few years, as he started with 
advantages which many did not possess. But he 
intended to play his part, to belong to the decent 
half of society, and to build higher on the platform 
from which he had started. It came home to him 
that he was failing to form those habits which are 
necessary to success. He was considering whether 
it would not be wise to cut off the music hall and to 
cultivate the society of the best men in his own pro- 
fession. It would be an easier task if he could 
arrange to enter the family of one of those men. 
He was not a conceited fellow, but he thought that 
Vesper Fallowfett might listen to him. He was not 
in any hurry, but saw that this invitation would give 
him the opportunity he required, and that continued 
delay might open the door to a rival. The con- 
fidence of youth in its capacity to do all that it pro- 
poses is the outcome of a good circulation, but 
contentment is nevertheless its product. 

Meanwhile Gregory Fallowfett had fulfilled his 
intention to meet Christina at Plymouth. Mrs. 
Fallowfett treated her with an effusive kindness, but 


30 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN. 

Christina felt by instinct that there was nothing real 
beneath the veil of words. The girl possessed that 
animal faculty of distinguishing the true friend from 
the false. Vesper treated her at first with a polite 
curiosity, but after a few days she relented toward 
one whose age and position were so close to her 
own. Vesper had imagination enough to put her- 
self in the place of the stranger ; and imagination, 
united to a natural goodness not yet spoiled, begot 
sympathy. 


IV. 


Our flying fancies are light and frolicsome as the winds, but love is 
sad and solemn, heaving with the long sweep of the grave ocean. 

CHRISTINA watched the guests at the Fallowfetts* 
with close attention. She could see that both the 
hosts and guests were playing a part, and yet they 
lent themselves readily to the play. The inter- 
change of superficial courtesies, the collision of 
ideas, the lights, the music, produced at length an 
excitement which was pleasurable, like in kind, but 
less in degree, to the African dance, which, begin- 
ning with measured paces, rises to a frenzy with the 
beating of the drums, the clapping of hands, and 
the nervous infection caught from a common move- 
ment. The music and singing charmed her, 
although there was a certain unreality about the 
finest efforts. With the recitation she was not satis- 
fied, for she remembered black orators who had ad- 
dressed the reverent circle of their tribe with a 
power and earnestness which the hired speaker of 
the evening did not approach. She pitied the per- 
formers, imagined that they must feel hurt because 
the interest of the audience in them ceased with 
their performance. She made a timid advance of 
recognition to them, but her offers were rewarded 


3 * 


32 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

with a blank stare. Evidently they looked upon 
her as a governess or poor relation, whose attention 
to them did not carry a compliment. There were 
also the Bishop of Mercia and the great advocate, 
Sir Bathcourt Blizzard, to be seen. She made a 
pardonable mistake in confusing these great men, 
as, unlearned in clerical dress, she did not observe 
the distinction between them. The bishop was tall 
and spare in figure, with an eager, dark face, and 
restless manner. His business ability had lifted him 
to the throne, and, out of earshot, his energy in 
conversation more betokened the restlessness of the 
courts of law than the calm atmosphere of the 
episcopal palace. On the other hand. Sir Bath- 
court Blizzard was venerable in appearance. Portly 
in figure, he had a gentle, benevolent expression. 
The gray hair and precision in speech added to the 
ecclesiastical illusion. In the course of argument 
he lifted his hand and extended his fingers as if in 
the act of pronouncing a blessing upon his opponent, 
but the conversation reached Christina in a frag- 
ment or two, and she found that it concerned the 
merits of particular race horses. Vesper introduced 
her cousin to the bishop, and then passed on to the 
neighborhood of Mr. Gracebroke, placing herself 
within reach of his observation, but apparently 
engrossed with the greeting of other friends. 
When he detached himself and spoke to her she 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 33 

received him with well-bred surprise — as if his pres- 
ence had just become known to her. 

The bishop became interested in the story which 
Christina told him of her life in Africa. The con- 
descending tone which he had at first adopted 
toward the uncovenanted service in mission work 
melted under the artless words in which the girl 
related the struggle with paganism and fever in that 
lonely corner of the world. He forgot the steps of 
rank, the shading of theology in his own land. His 
grasp upon the pastoral staff relaxed, and for a 
brief minute he threw himself into the fight, 
shoulder to shoulder with the other white men who 
were forcing the line of European morals and faith 
a foot forward upon the Black Continent. He was 
sound enough to feel the joy of mastery in the old 
football field rising into the heroism of the Christian 
athlete. He was almost ashamed of himself for the 
momentary illusion, when Mrs. Fallowfett broke the 
charm and led him away from the slip of a girl who 
had woven the spell about him, but he muttered to 
himself an apology, out of the mouth of babes 
and sucklings.” 

Sir Bathcourt Blizzard’s quick observation had 
already marked Christina, and he took the place of 
the bishop by her side. Nothing escaped the atten- 
tion of that able cross-examiner, whose experience 
in common law was unsurpassed. He saw that there 


34 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

was something worthy of remark in this young girl, 
and to him the lowliest individual might offer points 
of interest. Not with the voice of the storm, which 
could sweep the court and shake the bench, but with 
those soft and melodious notes with which he drew, 
as by a charm, information from the most coy witness, 
he obtained from Christina in a short time all the 
facts of her life. More than that, he realized that 
there was a mystery behind the facts which could 
not be solved by ordinary legal process, but which 
made the recital almost romantic. He spoke a few 
fatherly words to her in parting, and remembered 
her later on. To the girl, the most pleasant com- 
panion of the evening proved to be a fuming little 
man who was fretting about from one frivolous 
group to another in the hope of catching on to a 
favorite topic. With the intention of keeping him 
quiet and contented for a short time, the host 
brought him to Christina, and asked her to give 
Professor Racer some facts about Africa. 

Where am I to begin ? '' asked Christina, with a 
smile. 

“At the very beginning, my dear young lady; 
when you woke into existence. I mean, when you 
began to take notice, how did the world shape itself 
to you ? ” 

Christina paused for a reply, and then said. “You 
have put a hard question. The earliest memories 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 35 

come to us only now and then, like faint clouds 
which melt and reappear. It is not easy to think 
amid this talking and noise. Do you mind follow- 
ing me into the conservatory ? 

I shall be delighted,'' replied the professor, and 
he went after her through the crowded rooms, con- 
scious of the polite surprise about them, and 
secretly amused. 

‘‘ Here, surrounded with palms and flowers, we 
can let our thoughts escape from the fog of Lon- 
don," he added, as they found a retired corner. 

‘‘ The first thing I can recall is the shining black 
face of my old nurse. I can feel myself rocked ill 
her arms again as she sang me to sleep with a chant 
of her own village. She only turned Christian for 
the time she was hired, and went back to her pagan 
ways afterward. Nevertheless, she was sweet and 
good to me, and I cannot help loving her under my 
faith. Then I remember a ride in a canoe with my 
dear father, in a head wind, and the joy of rising 
and falling on the waves. Then, oh, then — I can 
hardly choose for you — memories come thick and 
fast. White people who arrived at the station and 
did not stay for long ; or who stayed and disappeared, 
and the chapel bell tolled for them. Learning my 
lessons on a stool at my father's feet, growing higher, 
sitting by him at the table, and saying grace at meals. 
Growing taller still, learning how to keep house, to 


36 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

teach the pickaninnies at the schools, to copy 
reports, make schedules, and so on ; until father died 
like the others. It is not a happy place for the Eng- 
lish, and if I had to live there for a long while I think 
I would rather be an African out and out. Professor 
Racer. They are friendly to the climate, and they 
spend their days and end their lives just like happy 
brutes.’’ The girl had tears in her eyes as well as 
in her voice, and her questioner kept silent for a 
while. He was a man of unrest, and behind the 
quick, nervous action which seemed to the surface 
observer to show a superficial mind there lay a 
reserve of thought and emotion. He was the 
recipient of the crude doubt and struggling faith of 
many a youth. Although he smiled at their diffi- 
culties, the ghosts of his own doubts were contin- 
ually reappearing in their questions and misgivings. 
He struggled for certainty, he must grasp certainty, 
and had given up first Christianity and then reli- 
gion, only at times to swing back in a worry of 
doubt as to his own material opinion. The phrase 
which Christina had used arrested his attention. 

Happy brutes ” fitted exactly, and if the growth 
of knowledge and the widening area of experience 
made the brutes unhappy, that was a detail which 
did not touch the argument. 

‘‘ You did not see any trace of soul — spirit — in the 
African, Miss Ruefold ? Take them as a whole, dare 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 37 

you put them higher in the scale than intelligent 
animals ? Endow a dog with speech, give him ten 
thousand years of experience, teach him to dance 
upon his hind legs, to use his fore paws in handling 
his food and begging for more, and there you have 
a good imitation of your black man. Every thought, 
word, and action of this animal would depend upon 
the suggestion of circumstance. Is it not so in the 
case of your African ? The dark forest is full of 
strange sounds at night, and he peoples it with gods 
many. The wind sweeps over the open land, the 
sky quivers with lightning, and the upper world 
receives its share of deities. The missionary comes 
with his science of Europe and his creed of Jesus 
Christ. Under the touch of the white man the 
African believes and is baptised. The white man 
dies, and when his black convert is left alone in the 
bush, nature again asserts its lordship. I beg your 
pardon, I am afraid I have offended you.’* 

Christina had flushed painfully, for she felt the 
force of the criticism upon her father’s calling, and 
resented it. 

Look about you, professor, if you please. Do 
you not see in England that people are as much 
guided by circumstances as in Africa ? I am sure 
that we are all acting a part, and have not even the 
satisfaction of pulling our own strings.” 

Better and better, my dear Miss Ruefold,” ex- 


3 ^ THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

claimed the professor, laughing outright. ‘‘You 
have reached the conclusion before me, and I am 
chasing you out of breath. We are only automata, 
even the best of us. The doll which I tortured in 
early youth to plague my little sister was a simper- 
ing composition which shut its eyes when tilted. 
The doll which you discarded a few years ago prob- 
ably walked and talked, and perhaps could be 
wound up to sing a snatch of a song. There you 
have the difference between Europe and Africa. So 
with our religions. They rise in rank with our rise, 
and in order to spare ourselves the supposed degrada- 
tion of being like dumb, driven cattle, we idealize 
the forces which make and mar our lives. I am 
afraid I have said too much for your peace of mind, 
but you must give me credit for good intention. I 
am not one of those men who insult women by con- 
ceding to them the right to an unlimited illusion. 
Nothing is to be gained by leaving them in undis- 
turbed possession of their emotional creeds. Better 
that a girl sufficiently old to think for herself should 
enter upon a right path of thought early in life than 
she should have to surrender her convictions, 
hardened by habit, later on, with unspeakable pain 
to herself, and often with damage to her character. 
That is the view I should take if I had daughters of 
my own. I am not so fortunate ; I have not been 
married.'' 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 39 

Africans have souls to be saved — at least, that 
is, most of them. They do say, I have heard, that 
there is a people of the kind you describe. They 
told me something about them — men with fine 
bodies, but without souls. They live far away to 
the north, beyond our station ; no one has ever 

returned who visited them except She bit 

her lips in shame, for the story of her own mother 
had almost escaped her. 

The bourne from which no traveler returns,’' he 
said lightly, desiring to relieve her from embarrass- 
ment. It is probably only a romance. Miss Rue- 
fold, but it is a curious little bit of superstition. 
That reminds me of a paragraph I have just read in 
one of the society papers about the discovery of the 
missing link. He is expected to arrive in England 
in the course of a few weeks. My scientific interest 
was dashed by finding that he was to be exhibited 
at a place of entertainment called the ‘ Happy 
Valley.’ The paragraph went on to speak of the 
great expense and difficulty involved in his educa- 
tion and importation, so that I am afraid the whole 
thing is a fraud. You cannot have heard anything 
of it?” 

Now Christina remembered the conversation of 
which she had been an unwilling hearer before she 
embarked, but she did not like to mention it to a 
stranger. It was clear to her quick wits that she 


40 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

was expected to know nothing of the “ Happy 
Valley/' She was, however, saved from the neces- 
sity of a reply by the intrusion of two other persons 
upon her who had been standing for some time on 
the other side of the shrubs. 

Christina, we had lost you ; I have been quite 
concerned ! " exclaimed Vesper, whose eyes were 
brighter than usual. Let me introduce you to 
another friend — Mr. Vincent Gracebroke, Miss Rue- 
fold. Will you take me back. Professor Racer, and 
find me some refreshment? " 

** I hope you found the professor a pleasant com- 
panion," Vincent began, as they followed into the 
house. 

You know him, I see," she remarked. 

‘‘Yes, we were at Cambridge together — that is, he 
was a coach in those days — he is a lot older than I 
am ; now he has a professorship. He can talk well 
when he pulls up in time and does not bore. He 
never snubbed us as the tutors and other officials 
were apt to do. I suppose we deserved the snub- 
bings, but it is pleasant to air your own opinions." 

“ You often changed your opinions, did you not?" 
suggested Christina, as she was expected to say 
something. 

“ Frequently. In fact, you really don't under- 
stand your own views until you have put them 
plainly to somebody else. That is the advantage 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


41 


of freedom of expression ; you get a chance of 
changing your opinions before it is too late.” 

‘‘When is it too late ?” inquired the girl. “You 
can make a change when you like — I mean when 
you find it necessary.” 

“Not always,” said Vincent. “A fellow gets 
stuck up about himself, then falls into the hands of 
a clique, his opinions are run into their mold, and 
cooled down to cast-iron. He defends them through 
fair and foul because they are the views of his set.” 

“ I should have thought that a sensible man 
would decline to be the slave of his own opinions,” 
said Christina, with a smile. 

“ Exactly, and that was the value of Racer to us. 
He formed a society for discussion, and called it the 
‘ Grass-green Club.’ We went in for first principles, 
and reorganized society, and the universe. I believe 
that we were saved by our wild talk from much loose 
thinking afterward.” 

“ There is Miss Fallowfett again,” put in Chris- 
tina, who had found a more congenial topic than the 
fortunes of a Cambridge debating society. “ She 
will understand the professor better than I can hope 
to do.” 

“ Racer, yes ; Mr. Fallowfett knew him before he 
went up. Tell me your first impression of England, 
Miss Ruefold,” he added hurriedly ; and from his wish 
to change the subject Christina concluded that there 


42 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

was a significance in the gentle murmuring which 
had come to her at intervals in the conservatory. 
Her impression of England was not to be given at 
that moment, for a servant stood at her elbow and 
asked to speak with her. She went outside, and the 
maid told her that two persons had called and asked 
for her, but they had declined to give their names. 

“ Who are they ? '' asked Christina. I do not 
know anyone. Are they working people or gentle- 
folk?” 

I do not like to say, miss. The man looks a gen- 
tleman poorly off, and the little girl wears rather 
common things.” 

Where are they ? ” 

Sitting in the hall, miss ; they saw the rooms 
were full, and the gentleman said he would not give 
any trouble. He did not know it was a party night, 
or he would not have come. He only wanted to 
speak to you for a minute.” 

A little elated with the attention she had received, 
and unusually excited by a scene which was al- 
together new to her, Christina went down the stair- 
case feeling slightly annoyed at the ill-timed inter- 
ruption. The hall was not so well lighted as the 
room she had left. The house was full of noise, but 
the empty space at the foot of the stairs seemed 
lonely by contrast, and the two figures on the bench 
at the end looked stranded and forlorn. They 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 43 

turned to her as she approached them, and she saw 
the worn face of a man well on in middle life. His 
hair and beard were gray, and he was dressed in 
rather ill-fitting black clothes. The girl was about 
twelve years old, delicate, with large gray , eyes, 
which were fixed in wonder upon the stately young 
woman who was approaching the pair. She stood 
before them, and the man rose and put out his hand 
with a timid respect for the girl, who had evidently 
surprised him by her carriage and assurance. 

“ I expected to meet a sickly, nervous child, who 
required English air to make her strong ; but you 
are a healthy young woman, Christina, and a hand- 
some one — God be with you. I am your uncle 
Marcus, your father's brother. To-day I found that 
you had arrived ; you did not write, and we have 
come at once to welcome you. I see it is an awkward 
moment, so we will not stay, but come and see us 
as soon as you are able, and our house is always 
your home, my child." 

Christina remembered that with the heedlessness 
of youth she had omitted to write to her relations, 
and she expressed her regret. Now that she looked 
at him attentively she could trace her father in her 
uncle, but the girl was a little stranger to her. 

This is our only daughter Zephyr. The others 
are boys, and away in the world. Strange, is it not 
that your father, his brother, and his cousin should 


44 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

each have one only daughter? Kiss your cousin, 
Zephyr.’* 

The child looked up with some awe at the strange 
tall girl, but the gray eyes softened, a light came 
into them, and, as Christina stooped, the little one 
put her arms about the elder’s neck and whispered, 

I know I shall love you ; come and see us soon.” 
A rush of emotion swelled the heart of Christina, 
and she kissed the child again and again. Kiss 
me also, Christina,” said her uncle, and the next 
minute they had gone away. 

When the girls had retired for the night Vesper 
soon dispensed with the help of her maid and opened 
the door which connected the two rooms. Chris,” 
she said, ‘‘come here, I have something important to 
tell you.” 

Christina soon understood that the subject of im- 
portance would take some time, and the two girls 
settled themselves comfortably before the fire. 

“ What do you think of Mr. Gracebroke ? ” began 
Vesper. 

“ In relation to me, or to yourself? ” asked Chris- 
tina mischievously. 

“ You have guessed, I suppose. Well, he did ask 
me to-night. I have suspected his purpose for some 
weeks. I think the boy really likes me.” 

“ You are probably right in that, as he asks you to 
be his wife. What answer did you give him ? ” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


45 


‘‘ Put him off, of course. I did not intend to spoil 
him by accepting him all at once. I suppose I shall 
do so presently.** 

But you love him, Vesper? ** 

You innocent child, I like him well enough, and 
he likes me. I dare say we shall get on together.** 

‘‘ But you would not marry a man you could not 
love, and who had not convinced you of his own 
affection ? ** 

You are not in Africa now. Miss Chris. There 
it is simply a matter of so many beads or cattle, and 
the girl is given over. Here we have the beads or 
cattle under the form of settlement, but the girl 
has a voice in the matter. Love, in your sense of 
the word — a devouring passion — is the marriage of 
the circulating libraries.** 

‘‘ Vesper, you know that persons do marry for 
pure love frequently.** 

Not once in twenty times, and when they do it 
is often a lifelong mistake. Passion is often felt for 
an individual with whom marriage is impossible, I 
admit ; but girls in our position are trained to keep 
it under restraint. Of course there must be no re- 
pulsion ; the conditions of age and position ought 
to suit ; and a promise should not be exchanged 
until the girl and man know and really like each 
other. Sometimes that feeling ripens into passion 
after marriage, I am told,** added Vesper discreetly. 


4 ^ THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN. 

I am sure I wish you every happiness/* said 
Christina, rising suddenly, wishing her cousin a good- 
night, and passing into her own room. 

A little later, when the light was out, and the fire 
had dropped low. Vesper called through the open 
door, “You must think well of me, Chris. I am 
not so hard as you take me to be. One must be 
sensible and worldly, if you like the word, at such 
an important moment in a girl’s life. I like him, 
Chris, and I think that I — love him. It is strange 
— is it not ? — the power that we girls have to move 
men’s hearts. We must prolong the situation as far 
as we can, and not give ourselves away, must we 
not, Chris ? ” But Christina was asleep. 


V. 


Will you do your work fitfully, happy when a shaft of sunlight 
strikes the tools, listless under a gray sky ? W ill the lathe and handy 
glue-pot tempt you to careless joinery for a quick return ? Or can 
you toil steadily at plank and block until your purpose grows into 
shape, then to discover another Workman at the bench beside you, 
not seen before, who will plane the harder knots for you, and who 
will unite your work with his own, thus lifting your ideal in the act 
of fulfilling it ? 

On the day following, Gregory Fallowfett sug- 
gested to the girls a beginning of the country 
cousin round of London sights. It will do even 
you good, Vesper,” he remarked, to see some of 
our stock shows. Those of us who are town-born 
know much less of our native city than the Scots- 
man or the intelligent foreigner. I myself have 
never been to the Tower or to the top of the Monu- 
ment.” 

Christina had better begin with the Zoo, I should 
say,” put in Vesper. “ She will be more at home 
with the wild animals ; they will remind her of her 
native land.” 

It was a word spoken in jest, but it hid a truth. 
Christina was moved by the creatures who were rest- 
lessly pacing their dens. The care with which they 
were tended increased the pity she felt for their 


47 


48 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

hopeless captivity. It was no chance of war which 
had made their prison, but a deliberate intention to 
change their lives and to thwart their instincts. She 
had never seen wild animals in confinement, and 
although she had occasionally heard the voices of 
the creatures of the night, and seen them dead as 
trophies, there was a give-and-take in the struggle 
between man and beast which satisfied her sense 
of justice. Vesper was amused at the disquiet of 
her companion, and joked her upon her sensitive 
feeling. 

‘‘If you are going to trouble yourself about these 
well-kept brutes, you will have no compassion left 
for the horses and other domestic animals who have 
not half the attention which is shown here. I 
thought there were still slaves left in Africa, and 
that all kinds of atrocities were practiced upon hu- 
man beings. Is not an ill-treated man a more 
pitiable spectacle ? 

“ I do not think so,’' answered Christina. “ The 
man has his intelligence ; he is one in nature with 
his captor. He can combine to fight for freedom, 
and his soul will, in the worst case, escape like a 
bird from the snare. But these creatures surrender 
their all to us, and are absolutely helpless in our 
hands." 

“ I do not suppose they feel it in the manner you 
imagine. If they had you for two minutes, Chris, 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 49 

you could then judge of their sentiment toward us. 
We are animals too, are we not ? We cannot afford 
to give away the supremacy which it has taken 
thousands of years to acquire.” 

“ Yes, we are like them, I know, and it is just that 
knowledge which stirs my sympathy. I am one 
with them, and the fellowship is a very sad one. I 
cannot walk about this place any longer. Let us 
leave it. Vesper.” 

They saw London thoroughly, and at last Chris- 
tina begged to be taken into the outskirts. She 
was oppressed by the size of the city, and by the 
swarming crowds. 

I learned the populations of the world in my 
geography book,” she said, ‘‘ but I never realized 
the meaning of four millions. The thought of them 
almost stifles me. Is there no wild country near to 
London — no wilderness where a few people might 
scatter and be themselves ? ” 

Epping Forest,” suggested Gregory Fallowfett. 

On a bank holiday,” added his wife. My dear 
child,” she said, addressing Christina, they will 
not let us run about half-clothed in England. Not 
even with an African sun will the police permit the 
cheap and ready African costume.” 

‘‘You do not understand me, Mrs. Fallowfett,” 
she replied. “ I like your English ways. They 
are pleasant and proper, but there are times and 


50 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

seasons when we want to be free, to speak and act 
naturally, to use our limbs freely, when we are 
young/' 

''You can join a gymnastic club," said her cousin 
Gregory. Vesper made a small grimace at her 
mother. 

"What freedom do you wish? "asked Mrs. Fal- 
lowfett, with genuine astonishment. 

" You would not like me to run briskly along Ox- 
ford street, or to clap my hands if my heart were 
filling with the joy of life," said Christina. 

"Not with me, if you please," put in Vesper. 
" If you tried that in London, you would get caged 
like your brothers and sisters in the Zoo." 

" It seems that a girl must not do a noble or kind 
action if it is peculiar and attracts attention." 

"You will get over that in the course of time," 
said Gregory. "You are new to it all, but you will 
find that my wife and daughter are the best people 
to put you right, and we, too, shall be the better 
for a little fresh blood." 

But in spite of the good-tempered consideration 
which he really felt for Christina, he had to extend 
his sympathy to his wife when she told him that 
their visitor had fastened a cord to the chandelier in 
her room, and had used it so vigorously as a trapeze 
that the gas-fitting had come to ruin. There was no 
opposition, therefore, on the part of the family when 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 51 

Christina proposed to go on a visit to her relations 
at the other end of London. 

Would you like to take something to Mrs. Rue- 
fold ? They are quite poor and can hardly make 
two ends meet/' said Mrs. Fallowfett, as she looked 
through her tablet of engagements. “ I am going to 
the stores this afternoon and could get a present for 
you to take." 

Very kind of you, I am sure," said her husband, 
mischievously intervening ; the Ruefolds would 
highly appreciate your generosity." 

I was thinking that Christina would rather trust 
her purse to me than rely upon her own experience," 
replied Mrs.Fallowfett hastily, and then she muttered 
a remark about the numerous claims upon her. 

Marcus Ruefold was the pastor of a church in the 
far east of London. It was a district which had 
seen better days, when clerks and local tradesmen 
lived in the houses, which still retained rough front 
gardens and an air of comfort. Now they had gone 
to live in the open country, beyond the scents of the 
factories. The by-roads and garden spaces had been 
covered with small streets, which teemed with the 
factory hands. There was still plenty of air, for 
the houses were low, built before the age of model 
dwellings, and the main thoroughfare was a broad 
road along which the tram-cars constantly jingled. 
The heavy square chapel was run " on the old lines. 


52 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

and had not declined to the condition which would 
warrant the new birth into the mission hall. Mar- 
cus Ruefold had toiled patiently in the ancient rut, 
keeping the small traders and the decent poor faith- 
ful to the place, in spite of the attractions of the 
ritualist service and the Salvation Army trumpets on 
the one hand, or the Secularist orators and Sunday 
concerts on the other. It was hard work, and needed 
the grit of a man to do it. The income flickered 
and wavered, but he never asked for help, and no 
philanthropist sought him out. Now and again a 
“ new movement ” was started, and the boom of its 
first success rumbled through London and shook 
the old chapel ; but the modest work held its own, 
while frequently the new movement died away into 
circulars. The Ruefolds lived in a plain little house 
in a side road, but Christina felt it was home from 
the moment when Zephyr, who had been watching 
at the window, ran to the gate, and the awkward 
maid opened the door of the cab. A motherly 
woman stood at the top of the steps and took Chris- 
tina into her arms. When her uncle joined them 
downstairs he said, There has not been an oppor- 
tunity of asking you about your father and his work, 
Christina. It is reported that he died like a martyr 
at the stake. It was his devotion, I take it, that 
killed him.’^ 

Christina hesitated. She loved her father, but in 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 53 

her own heart she knew that he fell a victim to the 
accident of climate, as any ordinary trader might 
have done. 

I knew he was quite faithful to the cause,'' she 
replied, '' but I don't think that he worked harder of 
late. When he was a young man he expected to 
die like the other men ; but as he grew older he 
thought he had become salted to the climate and 
was safe." 

know what you mean," replied her uncle. 

His work appeared to you so homely and reg- 
ular that it was easy to lose sight of the heroism. 
We cannot keep martyrdom at full flame, but it is 
none the less martyrdom because the fire is a slow 
one." 

‘‘You have done as much, Marcus, every bit," put 
in his wife. “You have sacrificed everything for 
your people. He has refused to leave, my dear, 
again and again, when most flattering offers have 
come to him," she interposed, addressing Christina. 

“ You must have a rough sort of people to deal 
with in these streets. They must be worse than our 
black folk, for they have to unlearn so much before 
you can get them to accept the truth." 

“It is a dangerous thing to treat people as a 
class, my dear," replied Marcus. “ No teacher can 
influence a class in the gross. It is only when he 
recognizes the variety of character and tempera- 


54 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

ment, when he begins to separate the mass into 
individual men and women, that his own influence 
comes into play.’' 

'‘That is true,” put in his wife. "You may 
break up a mothers’ meeting into characters distinct 
enough to furnish a stage act.” 

" I shall want some more talk with you, Christina, 
about missionary work,” said Marcus. " I have an 
idea that we are not altogether right in our method — 
we Christian English, I mean. If I were king ; if I 
had, not much, say two thousand pounds of my very 
own, we would go abroad, my dear Jane, we would 
try our new plan. I should be no loss to London, 
Christina,” he continued. "Twenty preachers are 
ready to leap into my place here. Each of them 
has a brand new way for reaching the hearts of the 
workingmen. Let them try ; but give me also a 
chance of work under other skies and with a differ- 
ent race.” 

" Well, you can’t do it yet, Marcus,” said Mrs. 
Ruefold, who had been waiting for an opportunity. 
" In the first place, we have not got the two thou- 
sand pounds which you demand ; in the second 
place, the climate would be death to Zephyr ; and 
In the third place, tea is waiting, and we all want 
it.” 

When Marcus had retired to the little square 
den which was dignified by the title of " study,” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


55 


Mrs. Ruefold assured Christina, with that confidence 
which the wives and daughters of unsuccessful men 
always possess, that her husband was not properly 
appreciated, and that his abilities ranged too high 
for the common people. I should prefer a black 
man and his idols to a dingy dock laborer, squalid 
in his poverty. It is the squalor which affects one 
more than the color of the skin. Your uncle Marcus 
has a strong antipathy to the smell of fried fish. 
With all his philanthropy he can hardly pass a fried 
fish shop in the afternoon, even to do a charitable 
deed.^* 

On Sunday Christina saw the chapel at its best. 
The walls were painted a cold French gray; the gas 
flared brightly in the gloom of the morning fog, as 
well as in the cleaner darkness of the evening. The 
pews were filled with a decently clad congregation. 
The galleries were empty, except for a few adventur- 
ous souls dotted here and there ; but the galleries 
represented the chance members of the congrega- 
tion. To the surprise of Christina, she saw Profes- 
sor Racer with two ladies. She mentioned this at 
the brief family meal after the morning service, and 
was told by Mr. Ruefold that Mr. Racer frequently 
came to his church, Those two ladies are Ms 
sisters ; they live in the neighborhood ; their 
brother is their chief support, and in the vacation he 
is a frequent visitor at the church/* 


$6 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

‘‘ But does he really care for the service ? asked 
Christina, with wondering eyes. I have recently 
met him, and thought that he would never enter a 
church.'* 

Yes, he will ; his bark is worse than his bite. He 
loved his mother dearly, and at her dying request he 
follows the forms of religion. I hope he will be all 
right at the last, but you must give men like him 
time in which to swing round. By the way, Jane, 
we will ask him to-night for supper and a pipe." 

*'You must come and see my people. Miss Rue- 
fold," said the professor, when he came round in the 
evening. Some of our Cambridge men go in for 
coins or seals. I collect sisters, as a cult, you under- 
stand." 

After supper the men brought out their pipes 
and, it must be added, sipped their whisky and 
water. Out of the subject of the preacher's address 
grew a discussion to which Christina, in a corner of 
the room, listened attentively. 

I am prepared to admit all you ask for," said the 
minister, '' but I give a different explanation to the 
one you proffer." 

Then let me hear it," said his companion. If 
you abandon your Old Testament account of the 
origin of mankind, the whole religious theory 
tumbles to pieces. You accept an evolutionary 
theory of the birth of man. Very good ; but hav- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 57 

ing accepted it, you desire to introduce a personal 
Creator into the operation ? ” 

That is so,’' replied the minister, ‘^and I think I 
can show you that such an intervention is really 
necessary. Smoke quietly for a few minutes, and I 
will try to demonstrate it. We must admit that the 
evolution of species is a gradual and selective proc- 
ess. Nature throws aside many broken pots before 
she has fired the one which is to serve as her type. 
In some cases her process leads to a dead-end, from 
which there is no escape. You will not get any 
further improvement out of certain insects and 
animals, for example, like the bee and the beaver. 
Now the presence of man is evidence of a selection 
which has been going forward through the past ages 
of animal life. There is indeed a purpose running 
through the whole process of evolution. From one 
animal a branch has been thrown out, giving a new 
type, before the first had vanished from the world. 
So the upward progress had been continued, until a 
human creature had struggled out of the mass, and 
taken its place as the master. Is there not in all 
this, guidance, control, forethought — in other words, 
a Creator working patiently for a given end, and 
taking infinite pains and time in the process ? ” 

The professor laid down his pipe. “ Now may I 
speak ? ” he said eagerly. Your argument would 
be water-tight if you could show that your product 


58 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

man was perfect when he had emerged from the 
battle of the centuries. But you must bear in mind 
that the development has continued into historical 
times. It is even now proceeding slowly, in accord- 
ance with laws which have been tested under our 
eyes. No, you are safer under the pages of the 
Book of Genesis than behind such a rampart as you 
are trying to throw up. There is a dignity about a 
Being who ‘ speaks and it is done,’ and who creates 
the world in six days. I can respect the teaching 
which I cannot accept. Do not ask me, however, 
to take in exchange for that sublime and impossible 
idea the figure of a Divine Workman who can make 
experiments, but who does not understand the ma- 
terial upon which he works. No, the mistakes, the 
misfits of life, would be a reproach to a Personal 
Creator. We are the more reverent who worship 
Force, stirring and expanding dead matter; Force 
as certain and relentless as a river, wearing its own 
crooked course along the path of least resistance; 
Force modified by the matter through which it 
drives, and breaking into a delta of many manifes- 
tations. That is the only theory of life possible at 
present.” 

Go back to your pipe, you Sadducee, and listen 
to me,” said Marcus. I will accept your live force, 
and your dead matter ; they are both part and par- 
cel of the material universe, Leave them alone ; 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 59 . 

let us watch the effect Your live force will play 
with matter as a squirrel does with his revolving 
cage, and a meaningless revolution will be the result, 
or it will tumble the dead material until it is without 
form and void. Hush ! wait a bit. Mind descends 
upon the chaos ; the Spirit of God broods upon the 
living material, and a Divine purpose brings cosmos 
out of the confusion. But the working mind is 
leisurely in its progress ; it guides, corrects, con- 
trols." 

‘‘ Why this waste of patience and time, my dear 
Ruefold ? Why did not the Almighty Creator 
mold the mass at once into the forms^ he required ? 
If he wanted an Adam he could knead him out of 
the red clay, and the new man could call the animals 
about him for his company, without the thought of 
cousinship to make the meeting an awkward one." 

“ If you will attend seriously, I will tell you. 
Allow that matter is eternal, then the Eternal Mind 
deals with the co-eternal matter according to those 
laws which are native to the material. As a chemist 
can combine or decompose the natural objects he 
handles, calling into being new forms, yet unable to 
subtract from or to add to the total sum of his 
material, so may the Great Intelligence be limited to 
the processes which give certain results." 

“No miracles are admitted then ? " interrupted 
Racer, 


6 o the quickening of CALIBAN : 

Of course, I do not exclude miracles. The 
miraculous may be a quick and unusual method of 
reaching a result — a method of special application. 
There are plenty of alternative routes known to 
science. The divine idea of man worked out by the 
Infinite Mind produces at last a human creature, 
equipped in frame and brain, but without the spirit ; 
therefore the actions of this creature are governed 
by circumstances and suggestion modified by in- 
herited instinct. Unto this creature God imparts 
the breath of the Eternal, a quickening spirit. A 
new era begins, and while the same law is at work 
in the mortal body, the spiritual man comes under 
that lifting and refining process which, from the 
moment of the new birth, is seeking to complete in 
the creature a likeness to his Creator. The laws of 
the two spheres clash — flesh and spirit are contrary 
the one to the other. Presently the body fulfils its 
fixed round and goes back to the earth, which cries 
out for it, from which it sprang, and to which it 
belongs. The spirit, with the joys and woes of its 
lower existence thick upon it, returns to its Maker 
for a new form through which it may work out its 
own destiny. The material falls back into the com- 
mon stock, the spiritual returns literally to the God 
who gave it. Eternal life is the gift of the Eternal 
Spirit, and an individual existence must depend upon 
the responsible use of the gift. Here, again, we 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


6l 


have the Highest Workman engaged. We are co- 
workers with God in the salvation of the individual 
self ; grace is the supreme intelligence, laboring 
according to the essential laws of spirit. Creation 
and redemption are summed up in the sentence, 
‘ My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.* ** 

Your account is interesting,” said the professor, 
after a pause, but I cannot see that it rests upon 
a basis of ascertained fact. The Bible does give 
an explanation, which is founded upon tradition, 
respectable on account of its antiquity. I do not 
accept it, but would rather swallow it whole than 
have to adopt a brand new theory. We run on 
parallel lines when we both admit the facts of evolu- 
tion ; but I contend that Natural Law, which you 
want to place under a Supreme Intelligence, is quite 
able to take care of itself, and to carry forward that 
higher mental development which you associate with 
the endowment of spirit. How can you separate 
the poetry of the book of Genesis from the facts 
to which it bears witness ? ** 

As I separate the flame from the lamp, the 
trumpet from the music breathed through it,’* 
answered Ruefold. ‘^You shall not cramp me in 
a fortress which cannot resist modern artillery. 
I will descend into the plain and meet you with 
your own weapons upon equal terms.** 

“ Then you must admit the theory of intelligent 


62 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN 

men, without a share in the spirit life, having 
roamed the world in past ages, and that vestiges of 
them ought to remain? said the professor. 

Undoubtedly ; the primeval remains scattered 
about the world can be explained in this way.’' 

‘‘ And if the evolution of mankind was not from 
a single stock, that it is quite possible there may be 
still men on the earth who have not yet passed 
through the rudimentary stage ? ” 

‘‘ Quite possible, and even probable,” replied 
Ruefold. 

You are right, uncle, it is true, and I know it 
quite well,” came a voice from the dark corner. 

Miss Ruefold, I had quite forgotten your pres- 
ence,” said the professor to Christina. I hope we 
have not bored you with our wrangle.” 

A little figure appeared in the doorway. It was 
Zephyr, with her light hair twisted into small screws, 
which turned her into a weird little goat. 

‘‘If you please, professor,” she began, with the 
manner of a lesson committed to memory, “mother 
does not wish to drive you away, but she says it has 
struck twelve, and she is afraid your sisters will think 
you have come to harm.” 

“ Bless my heart, so it is ! ” said the professor, 
jumping up. “ Well, we must be on the lookout for 
the possible man-creature. Ruefold,” he continued, 
as he put on hi^ coat, 


VI. 


We should look reverently upon the lowest form of organic life, for 
in its simple folds may lie hidden the most complex purpose of God. 

The Happy Valley’* is a successful music hall 
and place of entertainment. It does not spare 
expense in advertising when it brings a novelty 
before the public, and the arrival of Forest Bokrie 
in England was announced by an artistic poster of 
enormous size. The scene was a tropical forest, and 
several armed Europeans and negro servants were 
cautiously approaching a creature, half-brute, half- ^ 
man, who was standing at bay and brandishing a 
tree branch. Overhead, among foliage, could be 
partially seen the forms of like creatures, who were 
peering through the cover. A few gaudy birds and 
colored creepers were brought in to brighten up the 
picture. At one corner of the sheet a portrait of 
the same creature was given ; but although the 
features were the same, the figure was represented 
in a loud sporting suit of English cloth. The man- 
ager of The Happy Valley ” gave his own portrait 
at the opposite corner. At the foot of the poster 
ran the announcement : The Mystery Solved ; the ^ 
Missing Link Found ! Come and see Forest Bokrie, 
the Man-Ape of Africa ! Twice daily, at 3 P. M. and 
63 


64 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

at 8 P.M. Doctors and clergy admitted free to the 
private interviews after each performance/' It was 
not long before the new sensation had found its 
way into Behemoth Square, and was talked over at 
the dinner table of the Fallowfett family. Christina 
had concluded the week’s visit to her East-end 
friends and had returned to the Fallowfetts; Vin- 
cent Gracebroke brought the details of the new 
show to the girls, and was pleased particularly to 
watch the interest in the eyes of Vesper’s foreign- 
looking friend. He really liked Vesper, and con- 
sidered her perfectly suited to be his wife. There 
was a repose, a propriety about her, which harmon- 
ized with high-class furniture and good connections. 
But that strange, tall girl already exercised a pi- 
quant attraction for him. She had an unexpected 
fund of natural feeling which broke out in unac- 
customed places ; and although this might be em- 
barrassing in the wife of a rising professional man, 
it was highly diverting to the present young gentle- 
man without encumbrance. 

Yes, Miss Rueford, I have really met him face 
to face at last,” he said on one visit. It was late 
last night, after the performance; the poor brute 
was tired and could not talk much. Oh, yes, he is 
as human as you or I ; he speaks English fluently, 
with only an accent slight enough to give it a flavor. 
They taught him a great deal at the mission school. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 65 

and he is certainly near enough to monkeydom to 
possess a considerable power of imitation. He could 
learn anything and remember it, too, I should say. 
He actually quoted Horace to me ; but the odd 
thing is that he can't act without a suggestion." 

If he is so clever, why do you speak of him 
in that tone of contemptuous pity ? " inquired 
Christina. 

Because there is something amiss, my dear Miss 
Ruefold ; but for the life of me I cannot tell where 
the difference comes in. I should guess it is some 
flaw in the moral quality ; the mission people had 
awful difficulty. He was cunning enough to get all 
the education he could out of them, but they could 
not control him a bit after he became a man." 

‘‘ What is he like, Mr. Gracebroke ? Tell me once 
again." 

In his evening clothes, and with his gloves and 
boots on, you would only notice his great height — 
about six and a half feet — a slight forward thrust of 
the body, and the retreating facial angle. He has a 
somewhat long muzzle, like a dog’s jaw. His eyes 
are large and brown, with a big animal’s unconscious 
stare in them. There a is peculiarity about his fin- 
gers and toes. The doctors say that some are joined 
like a baby’s glove, I really hardly know whether 
he possesses the traditional caudal stump ; but taken 
altogether he is curiously near in type to a superior 


66 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

and highly developed animal of the ape race. He 
really warrants an expenditure of half a crown for 
the public and five shillings for the private perform- 
ance.'* 

I wish I could see him ! ” exclaimed Christina. 
'' Are the people kind to him? Does he seem very 
sad?" 

Really, Christina," interposed Vesper, forcing a 
laugh, don't waste your surplus emotion on a 
creature such as that. Buy a pug dog and pet him 
instead of this monster. You will have to change 
your name to Titania." 

I must — I mean I should like to see him. Poor 
fellow; he is all alone amid thousands of hard 
faces." 

‘‘You need not be uncomfortable about him, I 
assure you. Miss Ruefold. He is making a hatful of 
money, and the only danger for him is that he will 
throw it away in some wretched bit of folly." 

“ Could you take me, Mr. Gracebroke? — or get me 
a ticket rather," she added with a quick blush. 

“ Do you mean to the ‘ Happy Valley,' " asked 
Vesper. “Impossible; you do not understand — 
you do not know the difference between places of 
amusement. Pray do not continue the subject ; 
mamma will explain it to you." 

“ I can take care of myself," answered Christina 
proudly ; “ no one will dare offer me a word. Never 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 67 

mind, I will not ask you, Mr. Gracebroke ; thank you 
for all your trouble.’' 

I think it might be managed,” said Gracebroke, 
glancing at Vesper, who looked away. Racer is 
going — your friend the professor. Miss Ruefold — 
and if he and I joined our forces we could carry you 
safely through fire and water. An afternoon per- 
formance is quite as effective as the evening in this 
dark weather, and you would be restored to your 
friends in ample time for dinner.” 

So it was arranged, for although Vesper showed 
an icy disapprobation, and Mrs. Fallowfett pitied 
the girl’s taste, Gregory Fallowfett only laughed, 
and told his wife and daughter that if they pulled 
the reins too tightly they would drive Christina into 
some escapade which might compromise them all. 

When they reached the Happy Valley,” Chris- 
tina saw that one end of the building was filled by 
the stage, but round the circle of the hall there was 
a large free space. There were two deep galleries 
running the whole length, and beneath them were 
sundry side-shows, filling the recesses. Before and 
after the stage performances, the mesmeric experi- 
ments, spotted ladies, and strong men could be seen 
in a leisurely manner and duly appreciated. Over- 
head ran a tangle of rope and wire, with looped-up 
swings, but the gymnast just now was subordinated 
to other attractions. 


68 the quickening OF CALIBAN : 

When the curtain ran up a forest scene was 
represented, with a clearing up to the footlights 
and a deep glade in the rear. In the clearing a 
party of traders assembled. They lighted a fire, 
pitched their tents, and prepared to encamp for 
the night. There were three men and two women, 
and one was carrying a child. When their prepar- 
ations were made they took their evening meal 
together, and the black porters who were with 
them gathered into a group and ate apart. Night 
was darkening, the fire was made up, a watch was 
set, and the party retired to sleep. There were 
strange noises in the forest, but for a time nothing 
actually disturbed the travelers. The men set to 
watch were overcome as well, and dropped asleep at 
their post. What was that figure which was stealing 
up to the camp as softly as a cat, sometimes erect, 
sometimes on all fours? It approached the party, 
when one of the guard awoke. There was a shout 
of alarm and a discharge of firearms. In the con- 
fusion the creature escaped, and after a conference 
in the startled camp and a beating of the neighbor- 
ing thicket, order was restored. But high above the 
sleeping group the spectators observed a movement 
in the branches of a tall tree. Hand over hand the 
same creature descended — now testing the strength 
of a bough, now arresting his descent halfway to 
listen for a sound of detection from below. Sharply 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 69 

he turned from . this side to that, horribly alive, from 
his ugly muzzle to his long clinging feet — a man in 
form, a beast in agility. The creature reached the 
last support and extended its long flexible body to 
the full before it dropped, without a sound, on to 
the moss at the foot of the tree. He stopped for an 
instant, and then crawled on feet and hands swiftly 
to the tent where the women were sleeping. There 
was an interval of suspense, and out rushed the 
thing, nearly upright now, clasping in its arms the 
sleeping child. On, on he fled to the glade, when 
the child awoke and cried out. Her voice aroused 
the others. The mother in a frenzy started for the 
glade, the men pursued ; but the guns might not be 
used for fear of hurting the child. 

Now a storm broke; thunder boomed, lightning 
darted, the rain hissed. In the midst of the tempest 
the party returned in detachments. The women 
were weeping and wringing their hands. The men 
hung their heads ; the pursuit was in vain. Then a 
shout was heard ; the last two men returned. They 
were dragging a captive between them. What was 
it? The mother pressed forward. Had the child 
been found? No; they had captured a wriggling 
little brute, evidently belonging to the creature who 
had robbed them. He had taken their child, and 
they had secured, in retribution, this fierce little cub, 
who could not keep up with the headlong flight of 


70 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

its parent. The curtain fell at this point upon the 
first scene. Of course the part of the ape-man had 
been played by Forest Bokrie, and a lad had been 
employed to represent the smaller creature. Chris- 
tina had never seen a stage play, and this dramatic 
scene fascinated her. 

The next picture was the mission station — a 
painfully clean block of buildings with a tangled 
country in the background. A few men were 
grouped at the front in impossible black coats 
and white Panama hats. Forest Bokrie entered 
dressed in a half European costume. He shook 
hands with the authorities, showed them by experi- 
ment his skill in gardening and at the carpenter’s 
bench. He was directed by them to the school- 
house, when a leopard in pursuit of an antelope 
leaped the fence. The officials fled to cover; but 
Bokrie, casting aside the impediment of his English 
dress, mastered the animal, and it slunk away. 
Then the curtain fell again. The third part of the 
entertainment was restricted to the appearance of 
Bokrie in evening dress, accompanied by a fluent 
person, who gave a discourse upon the education of 
the captive hero, and his introduction to English 
manners. He touched upon the physical differences 
which were exciting interest, and invited the attend- 
ance of both religious and scientific men to the private 
discussion of these points in a room adjoining. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 71 

Christina was moved painfully at the scenes she 
had witnessed. It appeared to her as if the drama 
of her mother’s life had been unrolled before curious 
eyes. She recoiled from the thought that her own 
mother might have begun her life in a scene like 
that. She was aware that the picture had been 
colored and exaggerated for the purpose of effect ; 
but she felt a dread, at that moment, to learn more 
about Bokrie, lest her repugnance should be deepened, 
and that disgust might destroy her sympathy. She 
shuddered at the thought that the blood of these 
monsters might even be throbbing in her own veins. 
Gracebroke was disappointed at the slight interest 
she showed, and imagined that the girl’s delicacy of 
taste had been offended, and that consequently a 
reaction of feeling had set in. 

Christina pleaded a headache, and retired to her 
room for the rest of the evening. During the few 
days following she avoided a reference to her visit, 
and the ladies, believing that a cure for her craze was 
in active process, left the subject alone. But the girl 
was really too engrossed with the question to trust 
herself to argue it. She knew that she would not 
obtain help from her friends at home, and guessed 
that Gracebroke really shared in their prejudice. 
Yet her instinct told her that there was more behind 
to discover. She knew that there was a scientific 
puzzle which was drawing the attention of intelligent 


72 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

men, but as a woman she was debarred from per- 
sonal investigation. To prove that this poor crea- 
ture ought not to be counted as a pariah among 
men, to demonstrate that his growth of mind 
warranted the hope that a higher nature was ready 
to descend upon the afflicted body, were the objects 
of her secret desire. Her woman’s tact suggested 
that the best method was to use the influence which 
she possessed with the professor, and thus to com- 
pensate for the restriction imposed upon her sex. 
She wrote to Racer, asking him as a favor to seek 
an interview with Bokrie, and shrewdly added that 
if he could arrange for a meeting apart from the 
showman he was much more likely to reach the 
truth, for Bokrie would not then repeat the stock 
story which had probably been written for him. 
The professor crushed the innocent note in his 
hand, and, with that caution which marks the man 
who is attaining middle life without marriage, com- 
mitted the discourtesy of not sending a reply. He 
had a good reason for compliance with the artless 
request, for his own curiosity had been excited ; but 
he was ashamed to give countenance to a scientific 
interest to what might, after all, turn out to be an 
advertised fraud. 

The people in charge of Bokrie were naturally 
jealous of any independent visits to him ; but Racer 
managed with a little trouble to get the number of 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


73 


the house in the dreary street near to the hall where 
Bokrie was exhibited. The unsuspecting landlady 
believed that she had a very tall Indian gentleman 
for a lodger. He was called for by a cab regularly 
every afternoon and evening. He did not return 
home until early in the morning, but he gave no 
trouble, as he took his meals out of the house, paid 
his bill weekly, and rarely spoke to anyone. He had 
a friend who came for him, and who frequently had 
to guide the latch-key at night. The faded, fly- 
blown lodging-house rooms on the first floor were 
about as great a contrast to the African wilderness 
as could be drawn. They were empty when Racer 
was shown into them, with the promise that the 
Indian would arrive before six o’clock. 

After the visitor had looked about him, and found 
nothing to suggest the den of the wild beast, his 
patience gave out, and he was in the act of dropping 
a card upon the table — not without a flash of humor 
at the idea of leaving a card upon a possible ape — 
when the street door opened and there were voices 
in the little passage below the stairs. He waited, and 
in another minute was rewarded by the entrance of 
a thick-set, red-faced man, who advanced to the 
table and stared at him. Bokrie followed, and 
stooped as he entered the door. The first man 
continued to stare, and was apparently perplexed, 
but soon made up his mind. 


74 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

Thank ’ee, sir, I don’t care for your name,” he 
said, as Racer bowed and pushed the card across the 
table. I know what you have come about, and 
the name doesn’t signify to me. You are either 
the ‘ Golden West,’ the ‘ Phoenix,’ or the ‘ Cat and 
Monkey ’ ; or you have perhaps come direct from 
the ‘ Starry Splendor.’ Yes, the ‘ Starry Splendor ’ 
bears me a grudge for bringing this gentleman to 
the ‘ Happy Valley,’ and they want to cut in. All 
in good time, but you have got to negotiate through 
Bullock Sopp, all of you.” 

I beg your pardon,” replied the professor mildly, 
but I have no stake at all in these places of enter- 
tainment — not one single share. I really wish I had, 
Mr. — I forget your name — Mr. Bullnose Hopp.” 

Very neat indeed ; you may not hold a share. 
That’s quite likely ; but you are paid a good ‘ com.’ 
on your introductions. Let’s understand one an- 
other. I have no objection to your getting at the 
value of the article — none in the least ; but the 
business must pass through the hands of yours 
truly. Come now, if you are the ‘ Starry Splendor,’ 
say so at once ; it is of no use to beat about ; and 
now to terms.” 

My dear sir, I am only quite small potatoes, and 
there is nothing of a starry splendor about me. In 
my whole life I shall not earn the amount which 
the ^ Starry Splendor ’ divides among its lucky pro- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 75 

prietors in a single twelve months. I want to have 
a few minutes' chat with your friend, not with a view 
to any commercial speculation. I am a poor pro- 
fessor, employed in the University of Cambridge to 
teach youths who have the grace to listen. If there 
is anything of importance to science in your new 
find, I shall send a flock of visitors to swell your 
takings." 

Here Bokrie spoke for the first time. The man 
talks fair and square, Sopp ; let me alone. I shall 
take no harm." 

Don't you trust him, the little wretch ; he looks 
mischief," said Bullock Sopp, highly incensed at the 
interruption, and losing all respect for the feelings of 
anyone who thwarted him. 

Nonsense, Sopp, you treat me as a child ; don't 
try that game on," replied Bokrie. 

This assertion of independence roused the full pow- 
ers of the agent, who had visited the refreshment bar 
at the back of the stage more than once that after- 
noon. His language required some editorial control. 

You debased, chicken-hearted young nigger, are 
you going to teach me ? Aren't I keeping you out 
of the nether regions every instant you are off the 
stage ? Do you think I am doing that for the sake 
of the mission angels ? No, it's for my own cash book, 
not for you, who have more tail than soul, and not 
enough of that to keep you going long. You wait 


76 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

a few months, and when the public give you up you 
may go to perdition for all I care. I shall have 
done with you — there now.’' 

This was an unwise outburst from Bullock Sopp, 
for he had brought Bokrie over, and knew the pos- 
sible results of rousing his temper. He looked for 
the fire-irons, but Racer was standing, an interested 
spectator before the fender, and blocked the way. 
The creature before them seemed to change with 
his fury, and to lose his human likeness. His dress, 
his surroundings grew incongruous, and the two 
men drew together in a sympathy of fear. Wide as 
was the crevasse between them in thought and feel- 
ing, a deeper chasm separated the men from this 
animal. His arms were raised in a threatening atti- 
tude, and his stature grew imposing as he towered 
above them in the shabby little room. For a sec- 
ond he stood irresolute, and then, pointing to the 
door, he shouted, Go, go now, or I will tear you 
in pieces like this ! ” and he caught up a stick and 
snapped it into fragments. Sopp realized his indis- 
cretion and the danger of the situation ; so mutter- 
ing something between an oath and a farewell, he 
dodged round the table and got away. Racer felt 
the risk of exposure to the wrath of a being who 
might not be held answerable for his actions, and 
was disinclined to furnish copy for the morning 
papers. He was a pigmy compared with this giant. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


77 


but he took the position coolly, and sat down until 
the effervescence of the other man’s anger had sub- 
sided. After taking a few strides about the room 
Bokrie recovered himself, and, turning to Racer, 
said, Have some whisky 

No, thank you, and if you will permit me to say 
a friendly word, I should advise you to keep off it 
yourself. You have been excited, and it won’t do 
you any good.” 

They tell me it is the brandy I ought to shun, 
and that the whisky won’t do me much harm ; but 
they tell me any lie which suits them ; I don’t know 
what to believe.” 

“ The climate here is so different to that of your 
native country, Mr. Bokrie, and the police are at 
every street corner in London. I would be most 
careful of my cups and of my company, if I were 
you.” 

Certainly very good advice ; sounds like the 
parson’s talk at the mission house. That fellow 
Sopp — he tries to rule me according to his own way ; 
makes money out of me ; he is not a gentleman like 
you. But he wheedles me mostly, and then he 
does what he chooses — all for himself, you under- 
stand ; not for my good. That is my nature, in a 
word. You can do all you please with me if you 
give me kind words. I can’t escape other people’s 
influence unless I am made angry, then I can man- 


78 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

age for myself ; or I take too much drink, and then 
devils whisper to me, and I obey them/' 

Well, sir, I am sorry for you, and I should like 
to help you, but I am a man of science and have 
only come to see you for the sake of my work. 
Will you sit down and tell me something about 
yourseK ? " 

Bokrie eyed him doubtfully. What do you 
want to know "i " he asked. Bullock Sopp gives 
me twenty pounds a week, but I believe he gets one 
hundred out of me. He says he wants the difference 
to pay for the expense of bringing me over. If you 
will allow me thirty, or even twenty-five pounds, I 
will throw up my ccoitract with him, and give you a 
chance. He has got it on paper with little red seals, 
but what does that matter? I can chaw up his 
paper and his seals, though he does threaten me with 
the police court. They would not touch me, or if 
they did, I am ready to die fighting." 

What can you want with the money, Mr. 
Bokrie ? " inquired the professor. 

‘^Nothing or everything. There are beautiful 
things in the shops I should like to have. Precious 
stones such as you will hardly see in Africa, and lots 
of fine things. He tells me I have not money 
enough to buy them, and when I go in to ask a 
price the shop people lock the cases, stare at me, 
whisper, and laugh. Besides, he gets me to spend 


A MODERN- STORY OF EVOLUTION, 79 

all I receive ; I don’t know exactly how it goes — 
largely upon him I should say — so that I am poor at 
the end of each week.” 

I am sorry for you, I am sure,” said Racer, 
‘‘but I can’t undertake the charge of you at pres- 
ent. Does that scene at the ‘ Happy Valley ’ repre- 
sent the way in which your ancestors lived in the 
woods ? ” 

“That bit of lath and plaster tomfoolery? No, 
indeed. That is all got up by the manager and 
Bullock Sopp between them. I did not care about 
it, but they said it must be so. It was not the 
truth, they knew, but the British public did not ask 
for the truth. I can scarcely remember the way in 
which we lived ; I was such a little beggar when 
they caught me, and I have to work back through 
so large a lot of information they have crammed into 
me to get to my earliest days. We did not live in 
a forest, although they dragged me through miles 
of it when they carried me off. Open country I can 
remember, with knolls rising into hills, and patches 
of wood here and there. Plenty of running streams, 
pasture, cattle, and little slips of cornland close to 
the villages; well-made huts, spears, and swords, 
kilns and forges ; so we were metal workers.” 

“ But the people themselves ? ” pressed Racer, 
growing interested. 

“ They were tall and strong, something like myself. 


8 o the quickening of CALIBAN: 

I know they must have been clever, after a kind, 
much more skillful than the negroes. We had a 
greater number of animals in use than the white peo- 
ple have — dogs, apes, and others — and they worked 
well for us because we understood their nature. 
Language — yes, of course, we talked fluently to 
one another, but I can only remember an odd word 
or two. Better than you, we knew the meaning 
of every sound the lower creatures make, and 
could imitate them ; so that the animals served 
us well. I am sure that this knowledge had not 
been acquired ; it was traditional, as you call it. I 
have put piece to piece of the fragments left in my 
mind, and sometimes a matter which was indistinct 
and blurred comes out clearly after I have been 
thinking hard upon it. My people, in a remote age, 
must have spread over the north west of Africa, but 
they have been driven out by invaders who entered 
the continent from the eastern side. We are only a 
remnant of the original people, and have found a 
refuge for the last few centuries in a land beyond 
the great forest. I believe that we are an intelligent 
race, yet we never combined into great kingdoms, 
but were always broken into village societies under 
temporary chiefs. We could never act together in 
masses as other natives have done, and this kept us 
weak. Then we loved life and enjoyed it too well 
to give it up for an idea. We know there is nothing 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


8i 


beyond the darkness of death, and that we are only 
the children of the day. We require to be made 
very angry indeed before we will fight. Who would 
sell his right to the earth and air and sun for a 
reward which must go to other people? Your 
priests and rulers have persuaded you that it is a 
fine thing to die for your country ; but the man 
who is befooled like that is sacrificed like a slave to 
the glory of his master.” 

The professor had jotted down a few notes as 
Bokrie was speaking, and, until the man stopped of 
his own accord, had said nothing. You have no 
spirits or gods, I suppose, as you do not believe in 
an after-life ? ” 

Not in your sense of the word — mere dream 
men, or heroes of fairy stories. We see certain 
things around us which we cannot explain by our 
own experience, and we put them down to the work 
of living beings hidden from our eyes, but we never 
hold the absurd opinion that these beings live for- 
ever ; but know that they must die like every other 
thing. The flowers and trees have souls, which 
droop with the death of the plants. Animals and 
men have their souls also ; when the soul grows old 
the man or animal must die, whether the body is 
ready or not. If the body is injured, the soul tries 
to repair the damage, but the body cannot help the 
soul, for the soul is the life.” 


S 2 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

That is your explanation of existence/' said 
Racer. Well, it is more intelligible than some of 
the theories which are crammed down our throats 
when we are too young to fight against the spoon. 
However, if your race only follows but cannot lead, 
how does it come about that they have invented 
many things which show a high state of knowl- 
edge ? " 

‘‘ We are well furnished here," replied Bokrie, 
touching his forehead, and we have got a great 
deal from the habits of other animals. We improve 
upon the method of the lower creatures, for when 
you are at work, you know, one thing suggests 
another, and the work grows under your fingers. 
Then we must have learned a little here and there 
from captives of other tribes and from conquering 
races before we escaped from them. We never for- 
get a single thing; a fact seems to go down from 
father to son like the instinct which passes through 
the generations of the beasts." 

‘‘ Thank you, Mr. Bokrie, for your interesting 
story. I will not keep you any longer, for you have 
to appear in public again to-night." The professor 
placed his chubby little fingers in the long, clinging 
hand of his friend, and felt the muscular fingers 
close over his own with a firm grip. Good-by," 
said Bokrie, if you must go without the whisky. 
Don't repeat all that I have told you to Bullock 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUl'ION. 83 

Sopp. You may meet him outside; he always 
comes back/' 

Racer escaped the ordeal of another interview 
with the agent, and made his way to Behemoth 
Square that same evening. Casually he introduced 
the subject at the dinner table, and it did not ap- 
pear to have been prompted by any request from 
Christina. ‘‘ He is an intelligent brute, if he is only 
a brute, and really I learned a great deal. I wish 
the Germans would conceive a passion for the 
country of these divine apes, or that somebody 
would start a Royal Bokrie Land Company, and 
get a charter to explore and annex it." 

Do you consider there is any mystery at all 
about it? "asked Gregory Fallowfett. ‘'The man 
is a native of Northern Africa, I suppose ; but 
nature has dealt rather harshly with him. If you 
discovered the tribe from which he has strayed, you 
would probably find nothing extraordinary about 
them." 

“There is more in it than can be met by so 
simple an explanation," replied the professor. “ Bok- 
rie is a queer compound of common sense and 
brutality ; he is a sort of marble faun and Franken- 
stein rolled into one. I am sorry to say he will 
probably be lost to science in a few months if he 
goes on with his present life. He is in the hands of 
an agent — a rough, cunning fellow with vulgar 


84 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

tastes, who tries to keep Bokrie amused and pacified 
by running him through the lowest round of pleas- 
ure in London. Then they both take to the bottle, 
and the end of it will be that Bokrie will sink below 
the level of the brutes from which they say he has 
sprung.'' 

We need not take that to heart," said Grace- 
broke, who was one of the party at dinner. Lots 
of fellows are going the same road who have souls 
to be saved, or who think they have. We must 
make up our average of losses whatever the philoso- 
phers or the ministers of religion may say. Some 
of us are born under a lucky star," he continued, 
turning to Vesper. We have a taste for the better 
things of life, and are attracted to books, music, and 
to ladies' society. Life in its best form pleases us, 
and we go up to the top of the class, not because 
we are better than the others who fail, but through 
the native-born disposition which is no credit to us." 

That is rather a large order to accept, is it not, 
Miss Fallowfett?" said the professor, also address- 
ing Vesper. We shall expect great things from 
him now, and if he fails, will have no mercy, as he 
has given away the virtue of his coming success." 

You seem to take a great deal of interest in a 
most uninviting subject, Mr. Racer," said Mrs. Fal- 
lowfett. *‘If this man has all the peculiarities in 
body and mind which are claimed for him, I cannot 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 85 

see that it would attract me very much. Probably 
the music hall people will start something else next 
month, and then Mr. Bokrie will drop out of sight.” 

“ He must not go under, Professor Racer, without 
one hand to help him,” suddenly said Christina. 

If there is no one in the whole of this great town 
who will make an effort, girl as I am, I will do it 
myself.” 

There was a deep silence at the table, until Gregory 
Fallowfett said, Tut, tut, Dofia Quijota, ladies can’t 
go about redressing human wrongs unless they con- 
sent to wear the garb of a society and give their 
whole lives to the work.” 

At this moment Mrs. Fallowfett rose, and the two 
girls followed her out of the room. 


VII. 


Withhold thy pity, lest pity should tremble into affection, and an 
all-compelling love lift the least worthy step by step, at last to sit 
beside thee. 

Gracebroke listened to the appeal which was 
made to him by both the mother and the daughter. 
He set to work to discover more of Bokrie in his 
haunts. To break down the infatuation which Chris- 
tina showed for the man-curiosity it would be neces- 
sary to dispel the romance and show him in his true 
habits — an object attractive to the physiologist, but 
disgusting to the ordinary person of healthy mind. 

Gracebroke was accustomed to visit a variety of 
entertaining places in town in order to study life, but 
the pursuit of this study demanded a series of re- 
peated inquiries. He sauntered into one of these 
places in a listless and casual way on a certain even- 
ing, prepared to spend an hour there if the proceed- 
ings did not fatigue him. It was a retired spot, 
known only to the initiated, bearing the title of 

Under the Greenwood Tree,'' and was approached 
through an alley. It was a spacious vaulted room 
under a large hall, and was arranged to appear as 
rude and rough as possible. It was practically a 
supper room, and had a reputation for good food ; 


86 


A MOVER AT STORY OF EVOLU'JVOiV. 87 

but it combined music and entertainment with its 
grosser charm, and these were frequently improvised 
and contributed by customers. The company was 
fairly good, and men of letters often forsook their 
more refined eating shops for the primitive manners 
and good cheer of the Greenwood Tree.’' 

It happened that on this same evening Bullock 
Sopp had brought Bokrie there, and the two were 
taking supper at a table by themselves. It was not 
the place at which Gracebroke expected to meet 
them. He supposed that the savage would have 
required tinsel and glass, and he explained their 
presence by a reversion to a cave dwelling. As a 
fact, Sopp anticipated meeting with a dramatic 
critic there, and wanted to arrange for a private 
interview and a public paragraph. Gracebroke lost 
no time in seizing the opportunity. He took a seat 
close to the pair and introduced himself. He took 
stock of Sopp, and fixed his profession with fair 
accuracy. Then he threw out a hint that he had 
some slight connection with the papers, and might 
be of service to them. The bait took. Sopp made 
room for him at the table, and Gracebroke ordered 
his supper and a bottle of sparkling wine. He shared 
the wine with his friends, and it was followed by 
another bottle. He did not forget to fill up the 
glass of Bokrie again and again, so that the chilled 
and rather depressed demeanor of the man might be 


88 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

thawed. Bokrie had taken sufficient already, and of 
this Bullock Sopp ought to have been aware. 

The spirits of Bullock Sopp began to rise, and 
he related an anecdote or two of a broad and 
humorous kind about the search for Bokrie. He 
went off guard, and did not observe a suppressed 
excitement in his ward, who tried to follow the 
songs with snatches of incoherent imitatmn, and 
beat time with his feet to the violin and the cornet. 
The chairman of the evening then asked if any of 
the guests would favor the company, and after a 
short hesitation a man got up and delivered a prose 
dramatic piece. Now the ice had been cracked, 
another guest followed quickly with a comic song, 
and then there was a pause. Bokrie's eyes were 
glistening, and he had subsided into an unnatural 
quiet ; but Bullock Sopp was deeply engaged in the 
history of a successful attempt to outwit a brother 
professional in securing a Veiled Mystery of Bagh- 
dad, and there were so many digressions incidental 
to a proper account of the same that Bokrie escaped 
his attention. The ape-man had got up, walked to 
the end of the room, and mounted the stage, before 
Sopp realized that anything unusual had happened. 
The chairman looked at the recruit in blank sur- 
prise, but without preface Bokrie began to dance 
softly, humming and droning an unintelligible song. 
It was an attempt to sing something in English, but 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 89 

soon foreign words slipped in. He increased the 
pace of the dance ; it grew more wild, and at last he 
flung himself about the platform in a frenzy. The 
language broke off into uncouth sounds — a clicking 
and barking like a beast of prey. This caused 
amusement at the beginning and called out ap- 
plause ; but in a short time it was clear that the 
man was losing control of hifnself, and the exhibi- 
tion became painful. 

The chairman approached the performer and 
politely thanked him for his assistance, but asked 
him to desist, as the audience were quite satisfied. 
This speech was hardly heard through the noise, 
and Bokrie appeared to take little notice of the in- 
tervention. Two or three persons rose and left the 
hall, and Bullock Sopp, sobered by the disturbance, 
approached Bokrie quietly and tried to soothe him. 
It was of no use ; the creature had got the mastery 
of the man, and the coating of a civilized education 
cracked and tore off in ribbons with the expansion 
of the brute beneath. He shook away from Sopp 
angrily, and when the agent again laid hold of him 
a second time, he pitched him heavily forward on to 
the floor in front of the stage. Matters were grow- 
ing serious, and the waiters, who were afraid to 
touch Bokrie, summoned the manager. He ad- 
vanced, accompanied by two burly barmen as his 
assistants. Bokrie pretended not to see them until 


90 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

they were almost upon him ; then seizing a chair he 
swung it upon the head of one of his assailants, 
stretching him senseless. The other two closed with 
him promptly, and many gathered about, on the 
chance, when the struggling and rotating mass of 
arms and legs would give them an opportunity, of 
striking in. 

Gracebroke stood back and watched the turbu- 
lent scene. Most of the customers had escaped, 
but a few stood at the entrance, following the 
fight with curious eyes. Tables fell over, and 
crockery added to the crash, or was clinked about 
and ground by the feet. Bokrie roared and bel- 
lowed in some unknown tongue ; the men shouted 
oaths and directions to each other. Once they all 
fell in a heap, but Bokrie was up before the by- 
standers could rush in, and it was then seen that the 
strength of the men who were clinging to him was 
giving out. His muscular power was not sufficient 
to dispose of them at once, but his enormous stay- 
ing force was setting their utmost efforts at defi- 
ance. The police had been sent for ; but before 
they could reach the place one of the waiters, with 
a bewildered remembrance of the manner in which 
riotous meetings are dispersed, turned off the gas. 

Gracebroke prudently made for the door to save 
both his watch and his reputation, as he did not 
wish to be mauled by the police, or summoned to 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


91 


give evidence about a disreputable row. The door- 
way was blocked, and as he was forcing a road for 
himself he felt two long hands upon his shoulders, 
which dug into his flesh like claws. On his neck 
came hot breath from someone stooping behind 
him, and then with a violent thrust he was driven 
aside. There were exclamations in front ; the mass 
divided, and a dim form shot out. He was gone 
before anyone could realize it, and when the lights 
came and the policemen opened their notebooks, 
Bokrie had raced beyond pursuit, and Sopp had 
also disappeared. People in the street had observed 
a flying shadow, but no clew to his line of retreat 
remained. 

The proprietor of the establishment did not care 
to discover the name of the disturber, and avoided 
the notoriety which a magistrate’s investigation 
would have given to his premises. Gracebroke 
went home, satisfied that he had a story sufficiently 
highly colored to produce the effect which he de- 
sired on the mind of Christina. He regretted that 
for one brief moment it had not been possible to 
have placed the girl in a position from which she 
might have safely observed the vagaries of her 
favorite specimen, for he was most anxious to di- 
vest her mind of any sympathy with Bokrie. He 
gave her an expurgated account of the incident ; 
but, to his chagrin, Christina did not show the 


92 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

shocked surprise which he had anticipated. She 
remarked that it was a shame that the poor fel- 
low had been prompted to take so much wine, and 
almost implied that Gracebroke was the culprit in 
that matter. She fully understood the power which 
strong drink exercises upon the natives of Africa, 
and passed lightly over the peculiar manifestation 
which the liquor had called forth. The low grade 
of the man, instead of provoking her abhorrence, 
quickened her compassion. 

‘ Almost a brute,’ you say. If that be true, he 
stands the more in need of our pity.” Gracebroke 
saw that it was useless to argue with her in her 
present mood, and that to win her from her fancy 
he must present the actual Bokrie to her. 

One day, quite by accident, she met him. She 
had gone to a shop in Regent Street in her cousin’s 
carriage. She was alone, and, having finished her 
purchase, had left the shop and was about to get 
into the brougham. A few doors away there was a 
cluster of people round a window. They were 
inspecting some photographs which had just been 
put into position, and above the pictures the words 
in large letters caught her attention: **New photo- 
graphs of the man-ape, in various costumes.” There 
was Bokrie, dropping hand over hand from the tree 
upon the sleeping camp ; Bokrie carrying off the 
child, with the hunters in pursuit ; Bokrie at the 


A MODERN STORY OF E VOLUTION 


93 


mission station ; and at last the man-ape, like an 
English gentleman, sitting in a chair in evening 
dress ; and again with his hat and cane, starting for 
a walk. She looked at the portraits, and then 
glanced at the crowd to see whether they were 
impressed. There, at the edge of the cluster of 
onlookers, stood the identical man, staring at his 
own likeness. There could be no mistake. She 
compared the creature and his portrait carefully ; it 
was he without doubt. Her heart was beating 
quickly, but she never hesitated for one moment. 
He was here, within reach, and she must speak to 
him. The coachman had followed her progress 
slowly along the street, and had now drawn up at 
the curbstone. She gave no heed to the possibility 
of over-hearers, or to the curiosity of onlookers. 
She held out her hand, but he never saw, and she 
had to touch his arm to attract his attention. Mr. 
Bokrie, I believe,’' she said. He touched his hat, as 
he had been instructed to do, and looked at her 
with cold indifference. He had been addressed by 
respectable young ladies before this, and had been 
solicited for his autograph. 

You do not know me — of course you cannot 
know me,” she continued ; but I have heard of 
you, and have long wanted to speak to you. I am 
an African girl myself.” 

He looked in wonder at her features and straight 


94 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


black hair. I mean an English girl born in Africa. 
No, I am not altogether English, after all ; I ha^ 
some points in common with you. You are being 
ill-treated ; you are going to the bad they tell me ; 
I will try and save you. Here is my address on this 
card ; take it, and if you are in any trouble in the 
future send for me, and I will do the best I can for 
you.’' 

Bokrie stood stock still ; his mouth was slightly 
open. He stared at her stupidly, but said nothing. 
In a moment more she was gone ; the door of the 
carriage closed, the carriage disappeared. He 
' looked at the card, read the name and address three 
times, and put the card carefully in his pocket. 

One afternoon, a few days later, Gracebroke came 
to Behemoth Square in great good humor. Lon- 
don will soon be deprived of one of its shining 
lights,” he remarked, after greeting the ladies, and 
accepting a cup of tea from the hands of Vesper. 
What is amiss?” said Mrs. Fallowfett placidly. 

Is it the Bishop of London, Sir Bathcourt Blizzard, 
or the Lord Chief Justice? ” 

It is our friend Forest Bokrie, in whom we all 
take so deep an Interest,” replied Gracebroke care- 
lessly, avoiding the eager glance of Christina. I 
was driving along the Embankment this morning, 
and as I passed the Savoy there was a mob in the 
road and on the pavement, following a man who was 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 95 

in charge of several policemen. His hat had been 
lost in the contest which had evidently preceded his 
arrest. I stopped the cab, and as far as I could 
gather from the spectators he had been dancing and 
singing in front of Cleopatra’s Needle, and had met 
the suggestion to move on by promptly knocking 
down the constable. I am not quite sure whether I 
got the true story, for a crowd, however interested 
in an accident or an arrest, is seldom well informed ; 
but the conclusion of the episode went on under my 
own eyes. Our friend Bokrie pulled up sharp at the 
point where I stopped. I expect the police were 
giving him more assistance in his walk to the station 
than he cared to accept. There was a sharp tussle, 
and as the whistles were blown, I knew that it would 
end in more constables and a stretcher. Before the 
arrival of the re-enforcement, Bokrie fastened upon 
one of the men and fairly worried him with his teeth 
and claws, as if he were, in fact, an animal fixed to 
his prey. It was with the greatest difficulty that he 
was got off, and the poor fellow — his victim — was 
terribly mangled and disfigured. I am sorry to 
describe such a disagreeable scene, but by my doing 
justice to it you will not have to waste any pity 
upon him when he gets the punishment which he 
deserves.” 

Horrid wretch ! ” murmured Vesper, as she filled 
the cups, and accurately counted the pieces of sugar. 


9^ THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

Well, I had but one opinion of the frightful 
brute,” said Mrs. Fallowfett. I would not have 
seen him for any money.” 

Christina said nothing, but she crept away to her 
own room. On the table there was a note for her 
in an unknown hand. On opening the envelope, she 
found the card which she had given a week before 
in Regent Street; and on the back of it were 
scrawled the words : 

Dear Lady : You said you would help me — 
come at once. 

“Your respectful servant, 

“Forest Bokrie.” 

Below, the name of a police station was given. 
The girl slipped the card into her pocket and stood 
for a few minutes deep in thought. The room was 
cozy, the fire was bright and danced upon the book 
shelves and the pretty furniture. It would be hard 
to give up these things, to offend her relations, per- 
haps to find herself alone in London with a tarnish 
on her name. She knew that her cousin Gregory 
had some control over her until she was one-and- 
twenty, and that he took charge of the money which 
her father had left for her. She opened her bag, 
and found that she had twenty pounds in notes, 
besides the gold in her purse. She put them into her 
pocket, sat down and wrote a few lines without a 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 97 

signature : Wait until to-morrow ; I will be at the 

court and try to help you.’' She put on her hat, and 
even then, at the last moment, hesitated. But the 
thought of her mother came to her, and she com- 
pressed her lips and ran down the staircase. She 
entered a shop a few streets away, where she was 
not known, and borrowed the London Directory. In 
it she found the chambers of Sir Bathcourt Blizzard. 
Asking the shop people to engage a messenger, she 
left the note addressed to Bokrie to be sent on to 
the police station, and then told a cabman to take 
her as quickly as possible to the neighborhood of 
Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Christina knew sufficient of 
England to be aware that she would not find a man 
of this eminent position at home in such a district 
of London, but she hoped to get some information 
from his clerks. She hardly realized what she 
wanted from him, but he had treated her with kind- 
ness when she talked to him at Behemoth Square, 
and she determined to make an appeal to him on the 
first instance. She was put down at a gateway, and 
picked her road across a paved yard, ill-lighted and 
deserted, feeling already sick at heart with her mis- 
sion. She found the door on the first floor, and her 
knock was quickly answered by a youth who ushered 
her into a bare ante-room, and left her standing there 
for several minutes. A middle-aged man entered 
and looked at her in a sharp, impatient manner. He 


98 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

had been disturbed at his work, and was irritated at 
this causeless interruption. 

‘'See Sir Bathcourt? Certainly not. He does 
not receive visitors here, as you must know quite 
well ; and besides, he would require you to state 
your business.” 

“ I have not come to see him on my own affairs, 
but to ask his advice on behalf of somebody else.” 

“Ask his advice ?” said the clerk aghast. “You 
can’t call here in a casual way and ask for the advice 
of Sir Bathcourt Blizzard. You must first go to a 
solicitor and have a case stated. Then if we think 
fit to ” 

“ But I have no time for all that ; is is a pressing 
case — to-morrow morning. The judge may do an 
injustice if it is not put properly to him.” 

“ My good lady, you must be out of your mind to 
come at this hour. Go away ; think it over, and 
consult your solicitor. Unless it is all a mistake,” 
he added severely, “ and you imagine that you can 
coax Sir Bathcourt to help you in a manner which 
is unseemly and not professional.” 

“ Please don’t be so hard upon me,” pleaded the 
girl. “ I know Sir Bathcourt Blizzard ; I have met 
him at a friend’s house. I am sure that he will see 
me.” 

The clerk looked at her again, and being reas- 
sured, asked her to step into the consulting room, 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 99 

which was bright and comfortable. He gave her the 
evening paper, wrote a short note, and enclosed 
Christina's card with it. He thought it would be 
wise to shift the responsibility for declining an inter- 
view to the shoulders of his chief. He knew that 
Sir Bathcourt would be found at the club, and had 
received instructions to send on some papers there 
later in the evening. The messenger returned in 
half an hour and reported that his master would fol- 
low in the course of a few minutes. When he ar- 
rived he did not recognize Christina, and he scru- 
tinized her with a sharper suspicion than even his 
subordinate had shown. But the innocent freedom 
with which she extended her hand disarmed the 
doubt respecting her. She reminded him of their 
previous meeting, and of his interest in her story 
of Africa. He recollected the incident, and was 
touched by the confidence in him which she showed 
by bringing to him her girlish trouble ; for he rapidly 
concluded that it was a freak of some kind which had 
induced her to consult him. He listened with atten- 
tion to the story of Bokrie, told from her own point 
of view, and then asked a few questions. 

‘‘You have only seen this man once. Miss Rue- 
fold. Twice? Well, you have only spoken once to 
him. He may be a vulgar ruffian, quite unworthy 
of your sympathy, and I am inclined to say that this 
will prove to be his true character." 


lOO 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


I know he has acted like one/' replied Christina ; 
but if all I believe is correct, he would not be re- 
sponsible." 

Well, well ! " exclaimed the lawyer, who was 
growing rather impatient, that is a point you can 
never prove. I will give you the address of a firm 
of solicitors, who will do the best for your client, and 
my clerk shall go round in the morning and explain 
matters to them. They are decently good in crimi- 
nal cases. That is all I can do for you, and I 
strongly advise you not to allow your own name to 
be mixed up in it. Your people do not know that 
you have come on this errand ? I thought not. I 
will send for a cab and take you back to your cousin’s 
house myself. That will make it all right, and save 
you from a severe scolding." 

His smile encouraged her to speak out of her full 
heart. May I trespass on your kindness a little 
further?" she said, looking earnestly at him. 

Of course ; speak on." 

No one can save him, Sir Bathcourt Blizzard, but 
yourself. If you undertake the case, there would be 
hope. I am afraid I am asking too much," she 
added, observing his look of astonishment, but you 
would have an interesting case to defend, and would 
be helping a defenseless stranger ; you — oh, you — 
would be doing such a kind action for me." 

The advocate considered his reply for a moment. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


loi 


and then, with that impulse which had won many 
friends to his side, he gave way to the appeal. It 
is most irregular. Really I am almost afraid to tell 
my clerk, Mr. Markholt. He will be sure to disap- 
prove ; but I must try to carry out your wish.'' 

He struck his bell, and the clerk entered. Mark- 
holt," he said, I want you to go to Warksworth & 
Waster's the first thing to-morrow and get them to 
instruct me in this case," and he gave the particulars 
required. I can't go to-morrow or the next day ; tell 
them to ask for an adjournment, or to get a committal ; 
don’t* let it be settled out of hand. They can see the 
magistrate and the prosecuting inspector of police 
privately, and they may mention my name. No, 
we don’t ask for bail," he added. It is easier to 
keep the fellow in prison than to look after him as a 
free man." 

Sir Bathcourt Blizzard fulfilled his promise and 
took Christina home. Her conduct was condoned 
by the approval which had been thrown over it by 
so eminent an authority on the distinction between 
indiscretion and wrong doing. 

So it came about that the newspapers cut out the 
report of a scientific meeting, and reduced a speech 
of the Bishop of Mercia to three lines, in order to 
devote three columns to a police case. The court 
was crammed ; there were ladies on the bench. Mrs. 
Fallowfett obtained a seat for herself, but refused to 


102 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


take Christina, as she was sure that a police court was 
not a proper place for a young girl. The reporters 
described the excitement in court when the prisoner 
was placed in the dock, and expressed surprise at 
his quietness, as they were hoping that he would 
require half a dozen policeman to hold him. An 
assault of an aggravated character was soon proved 
against him, and then Sir Bathcourt Blizzard rose to 
open the defense. He relied entirely upon the 
absence of moral control ; the distinction between 
his client and other men. He described the dis- 
covery of Bokrie, the training he had received from 
missionaries, his importation into England, and his 
unwholesome and exciting life at the Happy Val- 
ley.'' He gave the magistrate to understand that 
the friends of Bokrie would take better care of him 
in the future, and that ample compensation would 
be made to the poor fellow who had suffered from 
the ferocity of the prisoner. Bokrie stood still 
enough, with his heavy brow and protruding jaw 
expressing a depression of spirits which might be 
taken for penitence. The counsel concluded the 
defense by an earnest appeal to the magistrate to deal 
mercifully with the creature from a distant land, who 
was striving to rise into a true manhood, but in whom 
the moral sense was only just beginning to develop. 

The reply delivered by the solicitor for the prosecu- 
tion attacked the statement for the defense on the 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 103 

ground that it said too much or too little. If Bokrie 
were a responsible man, he ought to answer to the 
law for his outrageous conduct. He contended that 
a mere fine would not be sufficient to restrain a man 
of so ungovernable a temper from further outbreaks. 
Bokrie was earning a large salary from his engage- 
ments, and the loss of a small sum of money would 
be nothing to him. On the other hand, if he were 
not to be held responsible for his actions he ought 
to be confined as a criminal lunatic. To leave him 
to the care of his friends would not be sufficient, as 
the man could not have any friends in England 
except those who were interested in his public 
exhibition, and with the loss of his liberty his value 
would cease immediately. At this point a commu- 
nication was made to the magistrate, who stated that 
as a proper compensation had been offered to the 
complainant and accepted, he would on this occa- 
sion fine the defendant, but that this leniency would 
not be shown again. He warned the friends of the 
prisoner, therefore, to exercise the supervision which 
they had promised, as he could not undertake, in a 
court of summary jurisdiction, to draw those fine 
distinctions as to moral control which the learned 
counsel had urged upon him. Any foreigner, how- 
ever distressed, who came before that court, with the 
usual number of limbs and human speech, would have 
to be treated as a man responsible for his actions. 


VIII. 


When you see a fellow man slipping down the precipice, twist a 
rope with the shreds of your own reputation for his rescue. 

Christina stayed at home all the next day, for 
she felt the reaction from the excitement. She was 
not altogether surprised that a strange gentleman 
wished to see her, and that he would not give his 
name. It was in the forenoon, and her friends were 
out ; at this unusual time she could see her visitor 
without fear of interruption. She would not lose 
the opportunity, so she dismissed the headache with 
the facility possessed by people of the nervous 
temperament, and descended to the drawing room. 
There she found Bokrie, as she expected, and he 
ran forward and took her hand, muttering a string 
of incoherent blessings upon her. 

Don't say any more, Mr. Bokrie, please," said 
Christina, disengaging her hand, ‘‘ but sit down and 
tell me that you will promise to keep out of these 
scrapes for the future." 

Bokrie looked at her steadily, and, having satis- 
fied himself that there was not the anger in her face 
for which he had prepared himself, turned about to 
examine the room. He went from object to object, 

104 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 105 

taking up the ornaments, examining each one, and 
then passing from picture to picture, with now and 
again an exclamation of delight. Christina waited 
until he had finished the tour of the room, and then 
repeated in a coaxing tone, Now, Mr. Bokrie, 
please to sit down.’' But something arrested his 
attention in the street, and he stood for a minute 
before the window ; then the sound of a bird in the 
conservatory sent him striding to the other end of 
the room, where he passed out of sight amid the 
the palms. Christina was annoyed, and felt a dread 
rising that he might prove unmanageable ; so she 
raised her voice and cried sharply, Mr. Bokrie, I 
insist upon you behaving properly ! ” 

The man appeared at once and stood irresolute at 
the doorway, with a trace of anger in his face. But 
that passed off, and, bending his head, he came for- 
ward deferentially and took the chair pointed out 
to him. Christina waited for him to speak, but as 
he remained silent she opened the conversation by 
asking ‘‘ whether he realized the mischief he had 
been doing lately.” Bokrie shook his head and 
gave a sly smile. I can’t call it bad, for it has 
brought me to see you.” 

“ Seriously,” said Christina, you will give me a 
solemn promise to keep guard over yourself in 
future ? ” 

“ I will give you the promise willingly, and any- 


io 6 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

thing else you ask me for, Miss Ruefold. But I 
shall not be able to rule myself, in spite of it, if a 
stronger power comes upon me.'* 

What do you mean ?’* 

‘‘ I am really not like people about me ; I am 
affected by the thing of the moment, and, if several 
things claim my attention, by the strongest influence 
of the lot. Even now you must look at me, you 
must talk to me, or my attention would drift away 
to a noise in the street or to the pattern of the rug. 
An obstacle in my way excites me to anger ; a gen- 
tle tone soothes me ; but if my passions get the 
mastery, they just burn out ; I can't quench the 
flame. Your sharp command brought me out of the 
glass house, ready to resent it, but — oh, forgive me. 
Miss Ruefold ! — when I looked upon you again, your 
face brought me to your feet like a faithful dog." 

This avowal of admiration did not disturb Chris- 
tina at all. She gazed across the gulf which sepa- 
rated her from him, perplexed at the problem he 
presented, and only desirous of using her growing 
influence for his own benefit. She reflected for a 
while, and then said, “ Cannot you call to mind the 
trouble and disaster you have brought upon your- 
self when you are tempted to give way to your im- 
pulse to do wrong? " 

“ I can remember quickly enough," he replied ; 
but that does not restrain me in the least. That 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


107 


piano lies open to your fingers ; it will speak if you 
touch it — so do 1. Bad men get the worst notes of 
my nature, but good people waken the gentleness I 
have in mje. If you were always near to me you 
could do with me as you would ; you should lead 
me with a thread of silk. I have been to church ; 
yes, again and again. I love the organ ; the sweet 
voices joined with the music. The good words of 
the preacher charm me. Yes, I will lead a better 
life. I feel good, but the music dies away, the con- 
gregation leave, the lights are put out, the place is 
dark and cold. It is all gone — all the goodness, 
with the lights and the music — and I am at the 
mercy of the noisy, staring world.’' 

“ But you think, Bokrie, surely ? ” persisted Chris- 
tina, forgetting the courtesy of speech in her eager- 
ness. 

Think ! yes, a great many things. Take me 
away from that tiresome leaping and crawling in the 
theater ; keep Bullock Sopp off, and the grinning 
fools in the audience, and the policeman, and I will 
work for you. Miss Ruefold, as your slave. I can 
show you secrets which, with all their cleverness, the 
people hereabout never discover — little signs and 
touches of nature in the sky and on land, and the 
meaning of the cries of animals one to another. I 
would walk behind you discreetly — far behind — 
when you went out in the streets, and no one should 


io 8 the quickening OF CALIBAN : 

dare to approach you rudely. I can eat coarse food, 
and would be very little expense. I could carry 
coals and do rough work in the house for my living. 
I am sure I should not disgrace you,’' he added, as 
he saw the color deepening in her cheeks. Under 
your eyes I could live the good life.” 

^^Mr. Bokrie, you know enough of England to see 
how impossible a plan you are proposing. I have 
no power to engage a servant for this house, and if 
I had, it would be a very poor way of lifting you 
up. I will introduce you to friends of mine. You 
have met Professor Racer, I think, and Mr. Grace- 
broke. Yes, and there is my uncle ; I should like 
you to know him.” 

I don’t care for your friends ; they may be pleas- 
ant and polite, but they overhaul me for a curiosity. 
If anyone can make a human being of me, you are 
the person to do it.” 

I want to do more than that ; I should like you 
to feel that in me you have a sister — one who un- 
derstands how strange this life is to you, one who 
herself sometimes goes through the same expe- 
rience.” 

''Do you worship a God, Miss Ruefold?” asked 
Bokrie, after a pause. 

" I suppose I do,” answered Christina. "Yes, of 
course,” she continued, as her conventional opinion 
came home to her. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 109 

Then I will worship God — your God — you under- 
stand. Yet, as you have been good to me, I will tell 
you a secret. Listen,” and he lowered his voice and 
looked round, there are no gods — not one. This 
world is full of spirits, which flicker in the dark, like 
marsh-flames — flicker and go out in the darkness. 
The clever white people keep superior gods, like 
their good furniture and other fine things. They 
don’t like to die like common animals, and so they 
have invented a better world. We children of na- 
ture, we know our mother well. She keeps nothing 
back from us, and we are quite sure that there is no 
fresh life for us.” 

*‘This is dreadful, Bokrie, truly shocking. You 
must want to live again, to see your friends and 
comrades once more.” 

** I want to have the best time possible here, and 
then when I grow old I shall stretch myself peace- 
fully on the brown earth with a heap of dried leaves 
for a pillow.” 

“ Not yet, Mr. Bokrie, I hope, and meanwhile let 
me try and do something for you. I suppose it 
would be impossible to persuade Mrs. Fallowfett. 
If I could get you a card of invitation to a nice 
house, would you go ? ” 

No,” answered Bokrie promptly. I have 
tried that form of amusement, and I know just 
what it means. I should be stared at coldly at first, 


XIO 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 


and then, finding that no one cared to talk to me, I 
should slink into a corner and sulk for most of the 
evening. If I went to get any food the servants 
would be uncivil ; they would give me a wrong hat 
and steal my umbrella.'' 

It was a shame to treat you like that," she said, 
amused and compassionate. Never mind ; if there 
is no one else to keep you in company, I will do it 
myself." 

*‘Will you really. Miss Rueford?" he exclaimed ; 

then I will go wherever you wish me to go." 
Christina held out her hand for parting, and gave 
him a little smile. He bent low, kissed her finger- 
tips, and went away. The servants collected at the 
back of the hall and tittered as they watched his 
departure. The rumor of the identity of the early 
visitor with the advertised ape had spread through 
the house, and it was a relief to find that Miss Rue- 
fold, who was already a popular member of the 
household, was safe and sound. 

Christina, was determined to fulfill her promise at 
the first opportunity, and when, soon after this inter- 
view, she received a card from a certain learned 
lady to accompany her friends the Fallowfetts, she 
obtained, through Professor Racer, who was a 
literary friend of the hostess, a card for Bokrie also. 
During the first part of the evening the girl looked 
with sharpened attention as visitors arrived or left. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


III 


and yet his stooping figure never appeared. At 
last she gave him up and entered into more ani- 
mated conversation with the people who came 
round her. Gracebroke, who had already paid 
proper court to Vesper, sat down beside Christina 
in order to escape for a few minutes from the pro- 
priety of the home country into the freer atmos- 
phere of an untamed continent. 

I hope you are not annoyed about anything, 
Miss Ruefold ? I tried to catch your attention an 
hour ago, but failed, although you were looking 
straight at me, and through me, I may say, at the 
dim forever beyond.’' 

I am sorry, I am sure, but I was looking for a 
friend to arrive.” 

Now Vincent Gracebroke could count the male 
friends of Christina upon the fingers of one hand 
without calling in the thumb. There were himself. 
Racer, Bokrie, and Sir Bathcourt Blizzard. He did 
not add her two married relations to the list. The 
first two were in the room at the time ; the last 
never appeared in this lady’s house. 

‘^You don’t mean to say that Bokrie is coming 
here to-night?” 

Christina gave an affirmative look. 

Then I hope he will keep tidy. I will see the 
butler and tell him to keep the fellow off the 
champagne.” 


II2 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


‘^You will do nothing of the kind/' said Chris- 
tina. If he does come, I will not have him 
slighted ; he comes at my suggestion." 

At any rate, you shall not be annoyed by a 
scene, if he makes one. I am here, fortunately, and 
will take you away before the fun begins." 

If there is any difficulty, I shall try to manage 
him myself," replied Christina. I feel a responsi- 
bility to our hostess for bringing him here." 

She knows about him, of course, and takes the 
risk," said Gracebroke. She delights in celebrities 
and notorieties. With your feeling for Bokrie, Miss 
Ruefold, it is strange to me that you should be will- 
ing to let him come here. Society does not object 
to a good row, but it must take place at a distance, 
out of doors, or after cards and supper at the club. 
You may take your brother's life, for all it cares, if 
you carry your pistols and seconds across to a Bel- 
gian paddock. Now the worst about Bokrie is that 
you never know when he is going off. He is like a 
musical box with fixed tunes. If you touch the 
wrong key by accident, he will start a war march you 
don't want, and play it through to the last bar." 

‘‘ You all treat him as if he were a wild beast, and 
he acts like one, occasionally, to satisfy you. Treat 
him with kindness, not with a pat of the hand you 
would give to a dog, but with the sympathy" of a 
man, and you will soon see a change in him." 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


II3 


‘‘You are indeed eloquent about your ward ; but 
really, is it worth the trouble, Miss Ruefold? If 
you succeed in your scheme of salvation you will 
have destroyed the poor man's individuality, and he 
will prove of no further use to the showmen. He 
can’t have much money ; I know that he has several 
good engagements in view. Would it not be better 
to allow him to work these out, and, when he has 
ceased to draw, put him through the moral mill and 
turn him into a limp saint?” 

“ I am afraid you do not believe in moral reform 
of any kind,” retorted Christina. 

“ To say the truth,” he answered, “ I have little 
faith in it myself. One world at a time for me ; and 
if a man is fool enough to throw away his chance 
here and go to the bad, he will not get the good 
back by psalm singing.” 

“ Did you not have a mother who cared for you 
when you were small and helpless, Mr. Grace- 
broke ? ” 

“Well, yes; I had a mother, of course. You 
make a point there ; mothers do care for their little 
brats. So do animals for their cubs. It is nature, 
I suppose ; and the mothers get some pleasure from 
the trouble and self-denial.” 

“ Or else they would leave their young to die,” 
put in Christina sarcastically. 

“We all act from the same motive, Miss Rue- 


1 14 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

fold. I am staying here because it is pleasant for 
me to put up sand castles for you to pelt at. You 
endure my company for the joy it gives you to 
show me up as a hard, unfeeling wretch. That 
so-called poet over there in the front room is recit- 
ing a poem that he has composed, to his own intense 
satisfaction, although not another person in the 
house cares twopence about it, and we, in the back 
apartment, have not caught a single line. Those 
who fail in society, or in their love affairs, take up 
religion as a profession because it affords a solace to 
their wounded vanity. Where can you find through- 
out the whole world any other motive than self-love ? 
We are not governed by the Christianity we talk 
about, but by political economy, which is selfishness 
in its simplest form.'' 

‘‘You don't act upon your own doctrine, Mr. 
Gracebroke ; you are always taking pains to please 
other people — to please me, for instance." 

“To please you — yes; but that is to please 
myself," he answered quickly. 

“ Do you not believe in self-sacrifice in any 
sense ? " she asked. 

“Not a bit. I hope you are not too shocked." 

“ Not shocked ; only a little sad. It seems to me 
that while I am trying to lift Bokrie higher, you are 
descending as fast as he is ascending, and that pres- 
ently you will pass each other on the track. Forgive 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 115 

me for preaching to you ; I hope you are not angry 
with me.’* 

‘‘ Not in the least, Miss Rueford ; in truth, I am 
very satisfied with your lecture. If I could only 
persuade you that I stand far more in need of your 
favor than does that drunken ruffian, I should have 
scored to-night. Believe me, I want your hand to 
keep me from slipping further down the slope.” 

There was no time for Christina to ponder over 
this speech, for there was a name shouted by the 
servant at the door which she failed to catch, but 
the interruption made her alert. There was a hum 
in the room, and people were gathered about the 
door, so that until she stood up she could not see 
the new arrival. There, at the entrance, stood the 
stranger, looking in every direction, but failing to 
see Christina. She saw the dejection creep over his 
face, the droop of his shoulders, the helplessness of 
his attitude. She dared not make a sign, but hoped 
he would see her at last. He did not, and began to 
retreat, unnoticed by the busy groups, who had 
scarcely heard his name, and had not recognized 
him. As she watched, he backed further out, and 
was lost to sight. She yielded to the impulse and, 
without a moment for consideration, made her way 
through the crowd and followed him. He was not 
on the landing, nor on the upper staircase ; but 
looking down, she saw that he had almost reached 


Ii6 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

the hall below. She ran and was by his side before 
he could turn into the cloak room. 

Mr. Bokrie, you have come to stay.” He shook 
his head. “ Indeed you have,” she persisted ; you 
have come here to see me.” With that remark she 
slipped her hand into his arm and gently drew him 
toward the stairs. He looked at her, then tightened 
his arm, and they went up together. There was a 
block at the door as before, but she made way for 
him and they entered the room. She was seeking 
the hostess, and, in the search for her, had to tra- 
verse the whole extent of the room twice, as they 
had overlooked her at the first round. Christina 
knew that they were the object of all eyes, and the 
conversation suddenly dropped. The groups did 
not break up, but she felt that a space was left about 
them wherever they stood, and she was sure that 
heads were inclined at the proper angle, and that 
glasses went up to the eyes. A few words from the 
hostess, who quickly left them, and Christina found 
herself alone with Bokrie in the midst of the crowd. 
No one came to them, and she dared not introduce 
him for fear of a rebuff. The chill of the world's 
disapproval struck in, and the reaction from her act 
of heroism had begun to depress her. She could 
not talk to Bokrie with any freedom, and she 
thought the position must be growing intolerable to 
him. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, n? 

“ There is not much to be seen or done here ; it 
was very good of you to come, but I think that it 
might be better for you to go away. Take me to 
the door and leave me there,'’ said Christina. 

Are you leaving, too ? " he asked. 

Soon ; in a few minutes," she replied, feeling 
quite wretched, and wondering how she would ex- 
plain the incident to Mrs. Fallowfett. 

‘‘ Then I don't care to stay a moment longer, but 
the short visit has been a pleasant one." She looked 
up at him when he parted from her and saw that 
his face was bright, and his head lifted higher than 
usual. 

Beauty and the Beast ; quite a fairy tale," said 
a woman's voice on the left hand ; and on the right 
someone said to her, ‘‘ Let me take you back to 
your friends. Miss Ruefold." It was Gracebrook 
who was waiting for her, with the ghost of a smile. 

It was hardly a success, was it ? " he whispered to 
her, as they went along. She did not answer, and 
he added in a confidential tone, I will stand by 
you. Miss Ruefold. I am afraid you will find Mrs. 
Fallowfett and Vesper a little rough on you." The 
ladies rose as soon as Christina reached them, and 
they all went for their wraps. During the drive 
home Christina was left entirely out of the conver- 
sation. She found her own room ; the friendly 
door between the two girls was closed. Mrs. 


li8 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

Fallowfett went into her husband’s smoking room 
and told him that the farce must come to an end.” 
He was astonished at the outburst, and was inclined 
to make light of the charge against the girl, until 
Vesper came in with flushed cheeks and tears in her 
eyes to support her mother’s argument. He looked 
grave when he found that Christina had arranged 
for Bokrie to be there, and that her championship 
was not an indiscretion of the moment. 

I see we can’t keep Christina ; I am sorry,” said 
Gregory Fallowfett. 

I will never have her with me in society again, 
never,” said Mrs. Fallowfett firmly. Anything 
that is reasonable, Gregory, I will do to please you, 
but I draw the line at bridling untamed girls.” 

Christina read her sentence in the cold looks of 
the ladies on the following morning. They never 
spoke to her, and left her alone after breakfast. 
Her cousin came into the room with a telegram in 
his hand. Here, Christina, your uncle will take 
you at once, and I think you had better go to him 
for a time.” 

Christina choked a little and said a word of grati- 
tude to her cousin. The maid packed her boxes, 
and the cab carried her eastward without a fare- 
well. 


IX. 


Tired of the puppet-show of man. 

We seek the immortals’ side ; 

But who may learn their pace, or can 
Keep measure with their stride ? 

Marcus Ruefold sat in his study and tried to 
compose himself to his work; but his thoughts 
would revert continually to the telegram which he 
had received, and he picked it out of the waste 
basket and flattened the crumpled pink paper to 
read again the announcement of Christina’s coming. 
The girl was his niece, and an orphan ; her natural 
place was with him ; the addition to his household 
would be a help to the family treasury. He had 
seen and admired her, yet he received her with an 
amount of misgiving. She was a girl who required 
a breadth and variety in life which he feared could 
not be found in his home. He had secretly resented 
the choice which his brother had made ; but now 
that the experiment had broken down, he almost 
shrank from the responsibility which had proved too 
much for others. He felt that his dead brother’s 
judgment was probably a truer one than his own, 
and that if Christina could not accept a position 

119 


120 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


which carried with it so many advantages, still less 
would she find in the straitened circumstances of a 
poor pastor’s life the career proper to herself. 

He was not much given to day-dreams. The 
speculative element in his mind he held in check by 
an elaborate devotion to his duty. If he suspected 
it of an attempt to capture his attention, he would 
invent fresh claims upon his time, or would enlarge 
the area of his common work. To-day, however, 
the introduction of this new member into his house- 
hold had produced the effect of a crisis. The dio- 
rama of life unwound itself before his eyes, and he 
could take it in as a single picture. He had been 
haunted of late by the idea that he was getting deep 
into middle life without setting his hand to any 
distinct work. The respectable tradesmen formed 
the backbone of his church ; their families consti- 
tuted the church meetings, and were ever ready to 
respond to a call either to prayer or to social teas. 
He believed that he made small impressions upon 
them because they so readily answered to every 
appeal, and followed the track of religious observ- 
ance with an unfaltering fidelity. In this opinion 
he probably treated them with scant justice, as they 
were trained by habit and association to a conven- 
tional expression of their feelings ; but he lingered 
with more appreciation over the souls which he had 
snatched, like half-charred brands, from the fire, and 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


I2I 


on others who had shaken out the inborn devil with 
a convulsive struggle. 

Like his brother, in a similar review of the past, 
he recalled his earlier days — the course of training 
at the theological college, the village church, and 
then the removal to London. He remembered the 
hope with which he entered upon his new task, the 
sermons yet unuttered with which he meant to 
arouse the East to a sense of its privileges in the 
society of Christ, and the echoes which must wake 
the West to its duty to its neighbors. His fresh 
energies had failed to make that impression which 
he had whispered to himself, and the work and dis- 
appointment had lowered the personal standard. 
No longer could he hope to found a movement, or 
to build a tabernacle to hold the listening crowds 
who would throng to hear him ; it was sufficient for 
him to help a few weary feet along the black road. 
Yes, he remembered the narrow limits of his lot, the 
determining effect of mere wealth upon enterprise 
and conduct. With only one half of the means at 
the disposal of his cousin, Gregory Fallowfett, he 
would turn the neighborhood upside down. The 
straitness of his position was beyond his wit to 
remedy, and he bowed his head before that Power 
which had set bounds to his ambition. For the 
spiritual world was an everyday reality to him. His 
daily task was to make men and women ready to 


122 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 


cast off their mooring to this world. He had stood 
on the quay again and again, and pressed their hands 
in a last farewell. The salt breeze blew from the 
sea of darkness in no unkind gusts against his face. 
The fight for decency, the turmoil and swirl of the 
existence of a population living on the edge of pau- 
perism, had convinced him that for them the pres- 
ent could only be a rough school for the hereafter. 
When his mind was overcharged he would take 
refuge in consistent hard work. For the worry of 
speculative thought there is positive repose in the 
activity of doing good. In pursuit of these thoughts 
Marcus had forgotten to tell his wife of the imme- 
diate arrival of Christina, and when his daughter 
Zephyr ran into the room with the news of their un- 
expected visitor, he suddenly remembered the omis- 
sion. 

Tell your mother that Christina has come to 
stay a long time with us,’^ he said ; but before the 
message could be delivered Mrs. Ruefold had 
brought the girl into the room. They all listened 
attentively to her story — not told without tears — 
and then Mrs. Ruefold broke the silence. I am 
sorry for you, my dear ; you meant well, and you 
have been treated harshly by your friends ; but Mrs. 
Fallowfett was right — she was, indeed. You ought 
not to have taken the step you did, and in public, too. 
Women cannot be to careful of their good name.’* 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


123 


Zephyr had set a warm, sympathizing cheek 
against the face of the friend she desired to comfort. 

Where is this Bokrie now ? asked Marcus. 

‘‘ Going to the bad, I suppose,” she replied with 
some bitterness. Everyone is hunting him down ; 
and now they have driven me away, so that I can- 
not give him any help.” 

Marcus, who had a natural sympathy with a lost 
cause, put in the remark: ‘'Nevermind, Christina, 
you may have helped him more than you now 
know. It is this way with my sermons. I think 
that I have failed altogether in some — I have really 
done so from the literary point — but the simplicity 
of my failures has frequently done more good than 
my polished successes.” 

“I am afraid I have really failed, Uncle Marcus,” 
said Christina. “ He wants to please me, poor 
fellow, and that is the only success I have got.” 

“ You have done something if you have taught 
him manners in order to please you,” said Mrs. 
Ruefold kindly, as she retreated to her household 
work. 

“ That is the only lifting power in this world, I 
truly believe,” said Marcus. “ It is the power of a 
person, not of a principle, which saves us struggling 
mortals.” 

Christina found plenty to do in that loosely de- 
fined area which her uncle called his parish. She 


124 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

was impressed by the patient work which the pastor 
gave from week to week. There was no applause 
to encourage him. The deacons accepted his efforts 
with only a stolid satisfaction. Christina saw that 
like other men he was often jaded and depressed after 
a spell of hard work, and she counted the cost at 
which he maintained the ideal of the Christian life, 
both in the church and at home. The flaring 
Christmas came and passed. The season was mild 
and damp ; the pavements were sticky with mud. 
The naked lights in the shops roared in the wind 
and turned blue in gasping. Overhead the bells 
made a riot, and in and out of the coarsely decked 
shops and glaring taverns the shouting, whistling 
crowds kept up a violent idea of seasonable enjoy- 
ment. It was not to Christina either the Christmas 
of the poets or of Dickens. She recalled the gath- 
ering at the mission station, the make believe of 
mince pies and of mistletoe ; the countless stories of 
Christmas in the old country from the members of 
the party ; the crowned pudding brought to the 
board like a fetish, before a crowd of awed natives, 
by the black cook, who did not think her salvation 
secured until she had learned the mysteries of its 
concoction. It was not the Christmas of Africa, 
but a noisy pretense that she would rather have 
seen from a distance. 

One Sunday, early in the year, Marcus had looked 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


125 


through his congregation, as it was his custom dur- 
ing the hymn before the sermon, and after count- 
ing the regular attendants, and glancing at the poor 
in the aisles at the side, he observed a stranger at 
the back, under the shadow of the gallery. The 
thought passed through the mind of the preacher 
that here might be the representative of some fine 
suburban church who had heard of Marcus Ruefold 
and had come to listen to him. Although Marcus 
was not prepared to hearken to the voice of the 
charmer, the temptation would be an agreeable 
seduction. It was a disappointment to find that 
the best passages seemed little to impress the 
strange hearer as he put up his eye-glass and stared 
at the people. It puzzled Marcus still more when 
this dandified young man asked the senior deacon 
in a superior tone the way to the vestry, and was 
waiting there for the minister on his descent from 
the pulpit. 

I have long wanted to hear you preach, Mr. 
Ruefold,” he began. Your niece told me about 
your good work, and I determined to see for my- 
self.” 

My niece? ” 

‘'Yes, Miss Christina Ruefold. I met her at the 
Fallowfetts' house, you understand. It is a great 
relief to join in a simple free service, after the music 
and the mob that you meet at a fashionable church. 


126 the quickening of CALIBAN: 

There is reality here ; but at the other place it is 
only a church parade/* 

It is kind of you to say all this/* replied Marcus, 
a little touched by the praise, but rather bewildered, 
‘‘ though I scarcely deserve it.** 

The other form is so insincere that it sickens us 
young men, and we give the whole thing up. You 
hear a man sing-song the prayers and lessons and 
deliver a pastoral address. That same fellow has 
sat deep into the night, with you, talking Shak- 
spere and stodgy philosophy. He was your neigh- 
bor at the ‘ Varsity * ; a man of your year, whose 
opinions you know as well as your own, and whose 
vices, large or small, are no secret. There he is, 
however, put up to kill an hour or so of valuable 
time on Sunday.** 

You are rather hard upon the young curates,** 
said Marcus. Everyone must make a start, and 
youth is not a crime.** 

Well, I thank you for your address,** added 
Gracebroke, ‘‘ and I shall not forget it in a hurry. 
Here is my card; perhaps on some other occasion 
we may discuss the matter more fully. You must 
be tired just now; good-night.** 

Marcus walked innocently into the trap and gave 
his admirer an invitation promptly. You will come 
and see us? Not this week? then next. I am dis- 
engaged on Friday evening; my niece will be glad 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


127 


to see a friend like yourself. We live very quietly 
here.*' 

Marcus walked home much pleased with himself 
and his visitor ; but when he told the story at the 
evening meal, he found that he had made a mistake. 

That is the Mr. Gracebroke who is engaged to 
Vesper Fallowfett,” remarked Christina. I am glad 
that he liked your sermon, uncle.’' 

<< Why did he not call upon you without taking 
this roundabout way of getting asked ? ” inquired 
Mrs. Ruefold, and then she saw the color in the girl’s 
face and divined the secret. 

When they were alone Marcus threw his sermon 
into the drawer which contained the other past mas- 
terpieces, and settled himself for his single Sunday 
pipe. 

He seemed a most intelligent young man, in 
spite of his careful dress,” he remarked with satisfac- 
tion. I shall really be pleased to see him here. 
I may do him good ; he is thoroughly tired of a 
priestly religion.” 

' My dear Marcus, have you not eyes to see ? ” 
demanded his wife. He has not come for your 
sermons, but to follow Christina.” 

Then why cannot he call in the ordinary 
way ? ” 

Because it would be an awkward thing for him 
to do without an invitation. Now he has his an- 


128 the quickening of CALIBAN: 

swer for the Fallowfetts ; you have helped him out of 
the difficulty,” 

‘‘ How did you find out all this?” asked her hus- 
band. 

By watching Christina when you were giving 
your account of the talk with the man.” 

So that there is nothing in his congratulations 
after all,” he said ruefully ; and he turned to his pipe 
with a sense of injury seasoned by the humor of the 
situation. 

On the following Sunday — a wet and stormy day 
— the galleries of the church were deserted, but 
there was one singular figure which had taken up a 
lonely position facing the pulpit. Marcus saw that 
this was not an ordinary wayfarer, who might have 
taken refuge from the storm on passing the chapel, 
and who listened to the sermon as an act of thanks- 
giving for a dry seat. He was a lean and hungry 
man, with restless eyes, and above the middle height. 
He was dressed well, so that his famished look was 
not due to starvation, but to some mental or moral 
famine. He leaned his elbows on the book shelf 
and bent forward, with a shifting gaze. Just below 
him was the clock, which preached the shortness of 
time in the intervals of silence. The man appeared 
to Marcus like an evil spirit waiting for the conclu- 
sion of his appeals to repentance that he might claim 
his prey on the stroke of the hour, when the day of 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


129 


grace had run out. To address evil in person was 
a new experience to the preacher, but it added zest 
to the argument and pointed the appeals. Marcus 
mentioned the fact of this apparition to the family, 
and at evening worship Christina took occasion to 
turn round, and there, to her alarm, sat Bokrie above 
the clock. Of course, Marcus had heard of Bokrie, 
and the silence of Christina had given him a clew to 
the identity of his latest visitor. In the evening, 
therefore, the power of evil was no longer idealized 
in the form in front of him, but it was the natural 
man, waiting for the redemption of the body. He 
took for his subject the groaning and travailing 
together of all created things, and the low thunder- 
ous roll of the vehicles beyond the doors seemed to 
add a melancholy emphasis to his words. Bokrie 
always brightened with the hymns, and rose and 
beat time with his book, though it was manifestly 
held upside down. 

At the conclusion of the service, Marcus quite 
expected another visit to the vestry, and arming 
himself with such stray facts of physiology as he 
could call to mind, prepared to receive the African 
stranger. But nobody came, and he found that he 
had slipped off his gown in a hurry and repelled his 
other friends to no purpose. Just before he entered 
his own house, he observed on the opposite side of 
the way a tall man, beneath a gas lamp, who was 


130 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

regarding the windows of the house with much 
attention. He concluded that this must be Bokrie, 
and, crossing the road, he asked the man, somewhat 
roughly, whether he wanted anything. 

The stranger recognized him, and said, Oh, sir, if 
you are the relation of Miss Ruefold, tell me how 
she is. I have not seen her for several weeks ; they 
told me that she had gone away from her other 
home, and that I should never see her any more. 
Her face has been with me in my dreams ; her voice 
has been ringing in my ears all day long. I owe 
everything to her, and I must see her again.'' 

I cannot promise that Miss Ruefold will see 
you," replied Marcus. She has come here for 
rest and change. You had better leave her undis- 
turbed. Give me your address, and if she wishes to 
see you I will write." 

Bokrie's face grew dark, and he fumbled in his 
pocket for a card. “ I don't think I need write it 
down ; you will be sure to know it," he said, and he 
named a terrace of small houses close at hand. I 
have taken a lodging there ; I shall stay as long as 
she remains with you, but I will not disturb her for 
one moment. Let me come to your church and sit 
in the middle of the big gallery. I can see every- 
one in the building, and when she enters, the church 
becomes sacred, and all that goes on is good." 

How do you get your living?" inquired Mar- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 13 1 

cus, descending to prose, as the rain was still fall- 
ing, and the conference was conducted in the shin- 
ing wet street. 

I have got out of my engagement at the 
‘ Happy Valley,* and am giving a performance at 
the ' Cat and Monkey* every night, and twice on 
Saturday. I am making less money — all for the 
sake of Miss Ruefold. Tell her that,*’ he continued, 
— many pounds a week less, and all for her sake. 
Bullock Sopp says I must be out of my mind, but 
that is not so ; I am only just finding it.** 

I am sorry enough for you,** replied Marcus, 
but as I have just said, I can’t answer for my 
niece. We must get out of this rain. If you want 
to say anything more to me you had better follow 
me into the house.” 

Bokrie stood humbly in the passage while Marcus 
sought for his wife and niece. At first Christina 
said she would not see him, and Marcus took him 
into the study and gave him her message, at the 
same time promising to help him as far as possible. 
The man did not offer to go, and his brow grew 
sullen and lowering. Marcus went to his niece 
again. “ A word may suffice to quiet him,” he 
said ; ‘‘ the poor creature is deeply grieved at your 
absence.” 

Bokrie’s eyes were turned expectantly to the 
door, but when she entered, he stood before her 


132 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

with downcast head and folded hands, like a peni- 
tent school lad. I am told that it is through my 
fault you have had to leave Behemoth Square and 
to live in this ugly part of the town,'' he began. 

You have been so good to me; you alone under- 
stand me ; don't give me up. Say a word to me 
sometimes, and I won't be a nuisance to you — I 
promise." 

You must not stay now," said Christina ; come 

again ; come " 

'' To-morrow?" he put in eagerly. 

No, not so soon; well, on Friday; good-night." 
He retreated, looking sadly at her until the last. 

My dear Christina," began Mrs. Rueford, a 
little ruffled at the disturbance in her household 
arrangements, I hope that we are not to have a 
fresh admirer every Sunday." 

You won't marry that ugly Mr. Bokrie, Chris- 
tina, promise rne that," pleaded Zephyr. Mr. 

Gracebroke is ever so much better-looking and " 

** Be quiet, child ; there is no love or marriage in 
the case," said Marcus sharply. 

No, no ; there is something better for me," re- 
plied Christina proudly, with a warm glow in her 
face. 

Girls ought to marry, my dear," said Mrs. Rue- 
fold ; it is natural and Protestant. I hope those 
sisters at St. Gabriel's have not been putting wrong 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


133 


ideas into your head; I only spoke playfully just 
now/' 

Not at all, Mrs. Ruefold ; but I have foreseen 
my vocation for some while. Zephyr will marry 
when she is a grown-up girl, but not I." 

And why not ? " demanded her uncle. 

‘‘ I have to seek my mother's kinsfolk far away 
in Africa; to help them presently to do — I know 
not what ! " exclaimed Christina, and broke off the 
sentence impetuously. 

I may die first, and go to heaven," put in 
Zephyr, deep in a plate of blanc-mange. 

‘‘ Enough of this for one night," said Marcus. 
‘‘Now I want to tell you that I am pleased to 
have met Forest Bokrie, and that I mean to make 
a study of him for my coming sermon on evolu- 
tion." 

“ What sermon, Marcus?" asked his wife, looking 
up in alarm. “ Use your tongue as much as you 
like, here at home. In public, in the church, it is 
different. People cannot blame you for your private 
opinions ; but if you tear up the Bible in the pulpit, 
it will be all over the place." 

“ I should be sorry to act impulsively, but I have 
given careful thought to the subject ; the fire burns, 
and I ought to speak out." 

“ I don't see that you need do anything of the 
kind, Marcus," replied his wife. “If you want to 


134 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

whip up the evening congregation, you might circu- 
late bills for a series of interesting social subjects 
as Mr. Sackman does at Providence Chapel; or 
have the ‘ Lost Chord ' on a cornet, as they do at 
the Bulfinch Road Tabernacle.’' 

Jane, Jane, cannot you understand me after all 
these years? Do you know that the message pur- 
sues me from house to house and waits for me at 
the corners of the streets? If you were stalked by 
a ghost like that, you would be glad enough to get 
rid of it by writing down, or speaking out, the word 
that has seized upon you.” 

I would rather take a blue pill and a black 
draught than upset my church and distress my 
friends,” said his wife. ^^You can’t be well if you 
feel like that.” 

The spiritual cannot be got rid of by drugs,” 
he replied. 

But the deacons may, by heterodox doctrine,” 
she retorted. ‘‘ Mr. Pompas Read is not the man 
to stay if he thinks the simple Word is tampered 
with.” 

‘‘ An excellent man, but a painfully narrow one. 
Since he retired from his shop, his one object in life 
is to distinguish between the real butter of doctrine 
and margarine.” 

‘‘ Yet he takes six sittings,” commented Mrs. Rue- 
fold. “ And how about Mr. Bannockburn Breeks ? ” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION I35 

‘‘An honest Scotsman who considers Calvinism 
a Scotch institution, and would defend it as he would 
his native land.” 

“Then there is Mr. Perkins Rust?” 

“ He is more likely to go to sleep than to take 
notes of my sermon.” 

“You will never get a call to a new church, Mar- 
cus,” said his wife sadly. “ You can speak racily, and 
draw applause ; so that they will ask you on to the 
platform, but keep you out of the pulpit. You clever 
men are like the noisy, sparkling girls who are popu- 
lar for an evening, but no one wants them for life.” 

“ That is too bad, is it not. Zephyr, to liken your 
staid old father to the hoydens and tomboys ? I 
must take my chance and face these terrible risks*” 

“ I wish we could get away from it all,” said 
Christina, with a sigh of unrest. “ You would like 
Africa ; you can think broadly there. Nature is so 
wide, and nobody cares.” 

“ You are tired of this big London show already ? ” 

“ Tired ! yes, indeed. I can’t do any good here ; 
I am only a burden to my friends.” 

It was true that the girl felt thwarted and over- 
borne. Here was Bokrie on her hands, helpless 
without her, as he pleaded, and yet as awkward a 
follower as a tame elephant would be. She had 
discovered — unfortunately, too late — that she had 
permitted Bokrie to pay his visit upon the same day 


136 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

which had been assigned by her uncle to Grace- 
broke. Gracebroke came quite early, under a vague 
impression that he was expected to arrive in time 
for afternoon tea. That was a movable feast in the 
house of the Ruefolds. Tea was a beverage pro- 
duced at the shortest notice, and was given by 
Mrs. Ruefold indiscriminately to chance visitors — 
mostly of the poorer sort — to weeping women who 
came for comfort, and to penitent sinners as a cup 
of rejoicing. 

Gracebroke was hardly at ease ; the road had been 
long, the cabman exorbitant, the surroundings un- 
familiar and uncongenial. His conscience continued 
to pester him with irritating warnings as to his duty 
to Vesper Fallowfett, and he did not relish the calls 
of that debt collector. The long ride had given him 
time for reflection, and the effort did not seem to be 
rewarded by an adequate return. Christina was 
quiet and repressed,; she did not at all respond to 
his remarks, and the conversation threatened to flag. 
Looking at her in this new scene, she seemed to him 
a different person. The vivacity had given way to 
a discreet sobriety ; her eyes wanted luster ; her 
dress had taken on the tone of the place, and had 
grown somber and puritanic. It was hardly worth 
while to have come this distance to drink a cup of 
questionable tea and to discourse upon the weather 
and kindred topics. At last, in despair, he said : 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 137 

“ I suppose, Miss Ruefold, as you have given up 
your cousins and all other friends in the West, you 
have thrown over that poor beggar. Forest Bokrie, as 
well ? You may care to know that he has disap- 
peared from our part of the town. His familiar 
name is no longer seen in the advertisements of 
‘ The Happy Valley,’ and they have put a capital 
novelty in his place. It is a troupe of juvenile 
J apanese acrobats, the oddest little imps that ever you 
saw. You ought to go there ; it is quite an enter- 
tainment for women and children. Really it would 
remove the disagreeable impression you must have 
received from seeing that half-beast exhibit himself. 
Would you like to go with your little cousin Zephyr? 
I should be pleased to take charge of you both. ” 

Do you know where Bokrie is at present ? ” she 
asked. 

‘‘ No ; at some small music hall in South or East, 
I suppose. Perhaps they have carted him off to the 
provinces.” 

Christina knew that he might arrive at any mo- 
ment, so she said, quite simply, I thought you knew 
that he was engaged in this part of London ; you fol- 
lowed his movements so closely before. He discov- 
ered my uncle’s chapel just as you did, and appeared 
there last Sunday. I am beginning to think we shall 
do nothing with him in England, and that the best 
plan would be to get him to return to Africa.” 


13 ^ THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

1 don't think that he will come to much good, 
either in Europe or Africa. Perhaps the best thing 
would be to send him back. He would probably 
marry a Kaffir Venus, settle down into a respecta- 
ble cattle-lifter, and get shot by the Boers. I will 
give ten pounds toward his passage money. Let me 
look out a steamer for him to save you from further 
annoyance." 

** Remember me kindly to Vesper, Mr. Grace- 
broke." 

‘‘That means that I am to take a formal dismissal. 
I must ask permission to make another call — at least 
upon Mr. Marcus Ruefold. I promised to discuss 
the sermon. Alas ! I have forgotten the text." 

He left, rather uncertain and bewildered about his 
own feelings, determined not to be curtly dismissed, 
and yet with a sense that the present meeting ought 
not to be prolonged. After going out he came face 
to face with Bokrie, who had just put his hand to 
the bell. 

“Ah! you have come, have you?" Gracebroke 
exclaimed. “ Spare me a couple of minutes, Mr. 
Bokrie, before you go in. I want to give you a 
word of advice ; you know I have always been your 
friend." Bokrie suffered himself to be detached 
from the door and drawn along the street. 

“ You are doing serious harm to Miss Ruefold by 
coming here," Gracebroke began. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 139 

'' How do you know that?’' asked Bokrie stoutly. 

‘^You have driven Miss Ruefold from her com- 
fortable home in the West End. You saw the house 
for yourself — every luxury, many servants, plenty of 
amusement — and you see her in this dirty hole, 
roughly lodged, and having to wait upon herself. 
Now, if you follow her about and come to the house 
she will be forced to leave this place also. It is a 
home of a kind ; but her uncle is a clergyman, and 
you will injure his character if you persist. Then 
the poor girl will have to leave again and hide her- 
self somewhere else.” 

She did not say that she was hiding from me,” 
urged Bokrie. 

She did not want to see you, and only came 
down because you would not leave the house,” 
retorted Gracebroke, making a guess at the truth. 

You have just seen her; then why not I?” ex- 
claimed Bokrie, thoroughly roused. 

Gracebroke laughed. ‘^Yes, I indeed, but you 
are not quite the same as we Englishmen, you 
know.” 

But she cares for me, too.” 

Gracebroke laughed again with good-tempered 
complacency. *^Not quite to the degree ; not quite 
in the same way.” 

“ I don’t understand, I don’t see it. She would 
never have fetched you back from the hall, have 


140 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

walked through that crowded room with you/’ per- 
sisted Bokrie. 

My dear man — for you are a man, in spite of all 
the showmen’s fictions — listen to me. You are not 
a fool ; can’t you see that she cares for you in quite 
a different manner, as she might for a favorite dog 
or horse ? ” 

If she considers me a man, she looks on me as 
she does on you.” 

As a possible husband, for instance ? ” answered 
Gracebroke. 

husband; no, no! She is far too good for 
either of us,” said Bokrie quickly. 

Gracebroke was stung by the comparison between 
himself and this lower creature. ‘‘ Of course, you 
will have as good a chance as I should have ; try 
your luck. It is your one opportunity of getting 
the privilege you want. Unless she entertains your 
offer she will never let you live near to her.” 

No, Mr. Gracebroke, you don’t know what you 
are saying. I could never — never ; she is beyond 
me, like the sun, the stars.” 

Very well,” replied Gracebroke roughly; if she 
is so far above you, keep out of her way. If she is 
a star, a sun, don’t let your great big body block 
the light for other people. If she treats you so 
well, go on, tell your story, take your answer, and 
have done with it.” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 141 

He went away, leaving Bokrie on the pavement, 
mazed and wondering. The creature marched up 
and down the street for the next twenty minutes, in 
a confusion of thought which prevented him from 
renewing his summons to be admitted. At last the 
curious observation of a policeman recalled him to 
the necessity of going in. There was even then 
some loss of time in getting admission, for the 
young servant had caught some rumor about him, 
and refused to go to the door unattended. Bokrie 
had to wait, chilled and miserable, in the little draw- 
ing room, until Christina appeared. 

‘‘ What had he to tell her ? ” The whole mental 
power of the man seemed to crowd to a point of 
expression for which he could not find words. He 
worshiped her, but he was dumb. The opportunity 
granted to the ancients of falling before a beautiful 
image was denied to him. He could not go down 
upon the faded Brussels carpet or prostrate himself 
upon the weak little chair before her. He would 
bring down the china figures upon the corner shelf 
and rouse the house with the vibration. 

Really, Mr. Bokrie, if you are not prepared to 
speak, I cannot be of service to you. Perhaps you 
are tired also, and out of sorts. Come another time ; 
now good-evening.” 

She held out her hand, but he did not take it. 
As she moved toward the door he found words. 


142 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

Listen, Miss Ruefold, don’t dismiss me like this. 
They say that I must not follow you about ; I must 
not come here unless you listen to me as a lover. I 
dare not utter a word of love to you ; but if you 
will suffer me to be called by that name, I will never 
lift my eyes higher. It is enough for me to breathe 
the same air that you do.” 

Moved by the force of his appeal, he took a step 
toward her. The horror and disgust which showed 
itself in her countenance drove him back. He 
covered his face to hide the look from himself, and 
she escaped from the room. Mrs. Ruefold came up, 
hearing the quick steps of Christina, but Bokrie had 
gone. 

The shadow of the impending sermon on evolu- 
tion covered the rest of the week. To Christina it 
was of absorbing interest, as she knew that a human 
being stood for the text. Mrs. Ruefold also listened 
with close attention, and as each point of novel 
character was advanced, she struck off a regular 
attendant against it. Marcus could see for himself 
the effect on his audience, and it was with as much 
disappointment as surprise that he observed the 
slight ruffling of the placid surface of the pews. 
He described the ascent of man to a fairly attentive 
audience ; but Bannockburn Breeks had dropped off 
to sleep before man had awaked to a spirit life, and 
Pompas Read lost himself in the intricacies of mind 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


143 


and matter, and contented himself with looking wise. 
Mrs. Ruefold, immersed in her own foregone con- 
clusions, sat through the sermon in an atmosphere 
of distrust, and went home wretched. Something 
must happen in the week, she was confident, and it 
was quite a relief for her to hear the cars running 
regularly on Monday morning. But the only remark 
that ever reached her ears was a chance statement 
of Mr. Breeks to a customer : Minister seemed 
extra eloquent last night.’' 

In the middle of the week two letters lay upon 
the minister’s plate at breakfast. One announced 
the death of a distant relation, who had left Marcus 
a legacy of five thousand pounds. The other was 
from the secretary of the Excelsior Religion Society, 
asking whether a mission could be conducted in the 
chapel for three months. 

'' They shall have it for three years if they like ! ” 
cried Marcus Ruefold, throwing the two letters across 
to his wife. It rnay run to a few hundreds more, 
the solicitor writes,” Marcus put in. ‘‘ We will 
spend the spare hundreds at least upon our African 
experiment.” 

Christina danced with Zephyr round the room, 
and both girls went to look at the shop window of a 
dyer and cleaner, where there were three ostrich 
feathers under a glass case. It was the only sign of 
Africa in the neighborhood. 


X. 


He who is too slothful to clear away the sand about the Sphinx 
cannot hope to discover her secret. 

Zephyr was disappointed with her early experi- 
ence of Africa. In the secret of her heart she had 
expected to be received by hostile savages on the 
beach, like Julius Caesar and Captain Cook. She 
knew that there were white settlements, but she 
imagined that missionaries would be set down upon 
an inhospitable coast, and only succeed in passing 
the guard of dangerous natives and penetrating to 
the interior after a free use of hymns and exhorta- 
tion. Instead of this dramatic cleavage of the diffi- 
culty, they landed in small boats and had to satisfy 
the custom house. Then there^ was a long railway 
journey from the port of entry to a bright little 
town with plenty of foliage, which gave shelter from 
the copper glare of the African noon-day. And 
then, oh then ! the picturesque and jolting ox- 
wagon, with its line of cattle as long as an express 
train ; the black servants, the whips, the creaking 
and groaning. How delightful to outspan in the 
heat of mid-day, and then to travel under the light 
of stars and moon ! There were no lions to wake 


144 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, MS 

the night into a delicious romance, and very little 
four-footed game ; for the hunters had swept the 
country, and had gone much farther afield. Con- 
voys of mining materials passed them ; horsemen, 
natives on foot, and wagons streamed along the 
great route from the coast to the interior. It was 
the South Africa of progress, of Boers, Scotsmen, 
and English companies. The small settlements of 
corrugated iron buildings rang with talk of diamonds 
and reeked with whisky. 

As they traveled northward, the population was 
more scanty ; the country half a desert, with dusty 
gray-green foliage. There were clumps of verdure 
by the water courses, but the spring rains were now 
over and the streams were running thin. Here and 
there patches of dried salt glittered with a ghastly 
remembrance of the lake which had finally evap- 
orated. 

From this tableland rose flat-topped hills like the 
seats of the prehistoric gods, but in reality marking 
the level of the old plain in a past geological age. 
This was not the Africa which Christina had known ; 
the mighty river rolling along its hundreds of miles 
between the matted banks of a vast forest land. 
The handful of white people, the overwhelming 
crowd of the black races, the spawning wealth of 
life, were very different to the sparseness, the silence 
of this gray and brown country. Here the white 


146 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

and half-breed peoples took the lead, and the native 
races roamed about the great stretches of country 
by stealth, as if they occupied it on sufferance. All 
day the sun poured down upon the dry soil, but 
after sunset the heat surrendered to a sudden and 
grateful coolness. 

Their destination was a trading station and mis- 
sion settlement in the wilderness. Marcus had to 
learn something of the languages and to make his 
final preparations for that push to the north which 
would carry him into the heart of Africa. He 
shrank at first from the change. The glare of the 
intense day blinded him after the dun-colored life of 
muddy England. His thoughts could not adjust 
themselves to the clear atmosphere of this ancient 
continent. Right and wrong appeared as sharply 
defined as the day and the night. There were no 
neutral tints, no shading to soften the boundaries of 
morality. The hybrids in religion flourished as little 
as the miserable half-breeds, cast off by both the 
black and the white. You were either a trader, 
given to cocktails and big damns,'' without a clean 
shirt or a hymn book, or a regular church-goer, on 
speaking terms with the Ten Commandments and the 
Apostles' Creed, a friend of every missionary in the 
place, and welcomed to afternoon tea in the bishop's 
garden. Either your black man was a nigger who 
could swallow diamonds, steal a horse, and make 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


147 


prayer to a diabolical carved club, or he showed the 
whites of his eyes at a prayer meeting and groomed 
the cattle of the mission house. The well con- 
ducted skeptic is a product of the higher civilization 
of Europe. In Africa, if you do not accept the 
doctrine, you may do as you like otherwise, and take 
over the full value of unbelief in a coarse dose of 
immorality. 

Marcus Ruefold traveled in thought along the 
mass of land from the Cape — which looks out upon 
that fragmentary Southern World that lives upon 
the crumbs which fall from the table of the 
wealthier Northern Hemisphere — to the Egypt in 
the far northeast, which treasures in scarred pyra- 
mid and dust-mound the accumulated science and 
religion of unknown centuries. It seemed presump- 
tuous that he, the dweller in an island crumbled off 
the western coast of Europe, should presume to deal 
with that enigma of man's existence which may 
have engaged the thought of intelligent beings in 
Africa for years before England had slipped loose 
from that link of land which bound her to the Low 
Countries. The mystery may have been sdtved and 
the answer forgotten for a dozen times, and was it 
left for him to rediscover it ? Were there men so 
low in the school of life that the power of Christ 
would have, in the first instance, to create a spiritual 
sense through which it might work? He watched 


148 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN. 

the men who were not vexed with the questions 
which assailed him. They gave the lessons of the 
Gospel as regularly as they would have done in a vill- 
age church in England. They kept their hands to 
the plow with a dogged good will, even when the 
land had to be broken up and replowed after a 
year of labor. When they got old they fell back 
upon their society, went home, and drew their pen- 
sions. Some few, fired by the example of great 
names, did a little in the way of exploration ; and 
others, with pecular gifts, worked at some neglected 
art or science, and gave the result to the natives. 


XI. 


The vast continent of Faith is washed by th^ restless sea of Doubt, 
and is forever changing its outline. Here the water eats into the 
shore ; there it surrenders a new tract to the land. Yet the continent 
remains, and even if occasionally sheeted with, ice and grooved and 
fluted under the march of glaciers, it will emerge again to be a home 
for flowers, birds, and higher forms of life. 

There was a Zulu girl at the station who was 
not much older than Zephyr, but in figure she was 
almost a grown woman. She was employed as a 
maid by the wives of the missionaries, and was 
given easy indoor work, on account of her steady 
character and nimble fingers. She had been cap- 
tured by the Boers in a raid, and had practically 
been bought by the mission from the man who was 
taking her home as a present to his wife. In this 
instance slavery was almost a merciful interposition, 
as the Boer bullets had killed both her father and 
mother. The young creature was nameless, or in 
her fright had forgotten her real name, so that her 
captors had to furnish one for her. Whether the 
two names they fastened upon her showed an effort 
to render her native title into the mixed speech of 
South Africa, or belonged to some lost worthy of 
the invading host, could not be determined. In 
spite of the baptismal Susanna,’’ which was 

X49 


150 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

promptly given at the mission, the name of Lucifer 
Quagg attached itself firmly to her. As the mission 
ladies could not persuade the natives to call her 
by any other name, they softened the first one to 
Lucy. Lucy was not by any means a girl without 
natural attraction. Her skin was a warm brown, 
her features were pleasing, and her figure comely 
and elastic. She was glad to make friends with 
Zephyr, who was not quite strong, and required the 
friendly assistance which the brown girl was pleased 
to offer. Lucy had managed to pick up a fair 
amount of education, and was a favorite in the little 
society of the settlement. 

The Ruefolds rented one of the houses which was 
vacant through the absence of a member of the staff 
on sick leave. There were walks in the early morn- 
ing and long talks at night, when Lucy would 
come into the bedroom of Zephyr and tell her 
delicious stories of the wild doings before the white 
man became the master. There were border fights 
and massacres, followed by the boasts of native 
braves that they had driven the strangers into the 
black water. But the white man always returned ; 
the avenging host gathered little by little out of the 
broad ocean. Here a trail of smoke, there a sail; 
the army grew larger ; the horses and great guns 
arrived with the chiefs of the white Queen whose 
flag goes round the world. Lucy had heard of the 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 151 

terrible struggle from her brothers who had fought 
in the armies of the Zulu king. About that great 
day they told her, when the impi extended its deep 
horns and closed round the brave Englishmen, who 
died fighting in groups, back to back. Zephyr 
could almost see the ordered lines, the curve of the 
impi, as it bent into the semicircle. She held her 
breath at the silence of the attack ; one movement, 
one purpose, drawing nearer and nearer, unmindful 
of the puffs of white smoke, the occasional gap in 
the ranks, which was instantly filled. 

Never mind, miss, it is better as it is,’* Lucy 
would add, when Zephyr was stirred by these 
martial stories into an indignation sufficient to make 
her wish to lower the flag of her fathers before 
these brave people. 

Why should it be better ? ” retorted Zephyr. 

I would rather that you had remained gloriously 
free. Why could not the Boers and the English 
leave you alone 

We should never have put up with the mission 
people,” answered the Zulu girl. We lived for 
war; the young men were taken away from their 
homes ; it was sad for their families ; there was no 
peace, no rest in the land.” 

It was more exciting than the tame life we all 
live here,” said Zephyr. You were a picture with 
feathers and beads, a bit of cloth, and brown skin. 


152 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

though I suppose that it must have been disagree- 
able on a chill wet day.’* 

Yes, the nice English cotton dresses are much 
better,” replied Lucy. And your pots and pans, 
your clean houses, are nicer than the bones and 
rubbish about our cooking ovens, and the rush and 
reed huts. The good Father above has been kind to 
you and given you the earth and the fullness thereof, 
as we sing in chapel ; but the poor browns and 
blacks have to make the most of their holes and 
corners.” 

I don’t know that you have much to grumble 
about ; you should see the little babies in our courts 
and alleys before you talk of our having the best of 
it.” 

Well, miss, we are easily satisfied, and even con- 
tented animals keep sleek and well. God has not 
quite forgotten us ; he remembered his brown chil- 
dren, and spoke to us in whispers before the white 
missions came. There is the rain-maker, you see ; 
he must be taught of God. Those who have an 
evil eye learn from the devils. They can blast the 
field and blight the lives of people they wish to 
injure. But good men can remove the charm and 
undo the mischief.” 

Where do you get these horrible tales ? ” asked 
Zephyr, with open eyes. 

They are not tales, miss ; they are true, I prom- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, I53 

ise you. The wizards and the witches, as you call 
them, are about here to-day. When they become 
Christian, of course they will only act for the good 
of others, but they keep the power all the same. 
You white people have much to be proud of, but 
you can’t manage storms, let loose the clouds, or 
clear the sky. You don’t know how diseases may 
be brought upon man and beast, and then taken off 
them without medicine or baths.” 

** Of course we don’t know these things,” broke in 
Zephyr indignantly, because they are not true.” 

‘‘You pray to God for rain or fine weather; in 
sickness you seek him, but he does not seem to 
interfere. Without any prayer you might find the 
medicine.” 

“ These things are altogether in the hands of 
God,” replied Zephyr, like a well-taught Sunday- 
school child. “ We pray to him, and then leave all 
to his wisdom.” 

“ Yet in the Bible it tells us that the prophets 
acted as our wise men now do,” said Lucy. “ They 
brought lightning from the skies and destroyed the 
wicked. They could take a disease from one per- 
son and give it to another.” 

“ Where do you find that ? ” asked the astonished 
English child. 

“ Didn’t we read about Eliza bringing rain, and 
Elisha giving the leprosy of Naaman to the bad 


154 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

Gehazi ? The prophets would take some simple 
thing and break it up or burn it, as a sign that a pun- 
ishment would fall upon others. In the same way, 
a wise man with us will make a figure of a person 
and injure it. As the injuries continue, the person 
will waste away and gradually die. I have seen it 
myself again and again.'' 

“You will have to sleep in my room, Lucy; I 
shall be dreaming of evil eyes all night," exclaimed 
Zephyr. “ Yet when the morning comes back, I 
shall not believe a word of all you have been say- 
ing." 

“ Oh, my dear miss, no one shall harm you, and 
nobody could wish to do so ; you are gentle and 
good. It is different with wicked people in high 
places, who cannot be reached by ordinary means. 
To pull them down by secret charms must be right 
and just." 

“ I suppose you don't believe in our religion, 
although you have been taught it ? " asked Zephyr. 

“ Indeed, yes, miss ; I need it much. When I am 
in danger I fly for help to the dear white Christ ; but 
I use the means he has given me, just as you Eng- 
lish have umbrellas and waterproofs in the rainy 
season." 

“ What means do you use ? " asked Zephyr, get- 
ting mystified. 

“ Incantations and charms of different kinds," re- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 155 

plied Lucy. See, here is one that I have hidden 
in my bosom,'' and she pulled out an ugly little bone 
amulet which had been secured by a string round 
her neck. 

I were to tell tales," answered Zephyr, with a 
roguish look, you would be kept out of the school 
until after the treat. Give it to me ; I will throw it 
away myself." 

No, no ! " exclaimed Lucy ; it might be your 
death — you, the gentlest, dearest white young lady 
I have ever met. It was made for the injury of 
someone I loved long ago ; I stole it, and saved my 
friend." 

. Then if I were to offend you, or mother wished 
to send you away, you would use it against us ? " 
asked Zephyr, with a smile which proved that she 
did not much fear the risk. 

If I were a bad girl, yes; but bad people can do 
lots of harm if they like. I heard one of the ladies 
pray for the natives, and she asked that we might be 
brought low and kept low, lest we should be injured 
by the abundant blessings of life. Was that fair — to 
tell Jesus things against us, to ask him to make us 
humble by keeping back his blessing ? " 

But, Lucy, you don't really believe that Jesus 
would listen to such a prayer? He would not allow 
himself to be persuaded." 

He is the God of the white people, your God, 


156 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

and, of course, he will listen to you first. If he does 
not favor you, how is it that you are so far in front 
of us? That is not different really to my working a 
charm against a good person for spite.*' 

We ought to forgive our enemies,** put in the 
orthodox Zephyr. 

Like the English and the Boers do after we have 
attacked them and burnt their houses,** returned 
Lucy quickly. 

‘‘What is all this talking? Go to sleep. Zephyr, 
it is too late for conversation ; and you, Lucy, eat 
your supper and go to bed,** said Mrs. Ruefold, . 
breaking suddenly upon their discussion. 

Mrs. Ruefold had been also surprised at the details 
of life in South Africa. She had pictured to herself 
a pastoral life, the rude abundance of a land flowing 
with milk and honey. She found that the plenty 
had its price, and that, away from the settlement, 
milk, as well as many other provisions, could only be 
found in tins. Instead of the entire freedom which 
she had anticipated, there was a tenacity of life in 
the station scandal which left the ordinary small talk 
of the English village far behind. Before she had 
lived there a week she knew the pedigree of all the 
missionaries and their wives ; the reason why this 
man had resigned upon suggestion, and the private 
affairs which had compelled another one to extend 
his leave indefinitely. The pastoral journeys of the 


, A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION IS7 

head missionary were more familiar to her than the 
itinerary of St. Paul himself. The arrival of the 
mail, the movements of the chief commissioner and 
his staff, the politics of the Boer Free States, the 
rumors of disaffection in a distant tribe, were the 
only matters which relieved the drudgery of teaching 
the rows of woolly-headed blackamoors. To the 
next generation the missionaries looked for a return 
for their sowing and sacrifice. 

Mrs. Ruefold soon began to feel the monotony of 
her new life. The woes of the middle-aged seldom 
excite the pity of the world, or are celebrated in 
song or story. The sufferers have lost the romance 
of youth, a*nd have acquired a faculty for silence and 
repression. Yet there are sufficient tragedies in 
middle life to move the chronicler of the human 
drama, if he looked for them, to his best efforts. 
The illusions which lose their rose-pink under the 
drab certainty of age ; the crookedness of circum- 
stances which reduces the hero or heroine to the 
commonplace of twenty years later; the terrible 
insistence of the law of average, which jealously re- 
gards any attempt to rise far above, or to sink much 
below, a doleful mediocrity. When Mrs. Ruefold 
was a young lass she believed in the promise of her 
husband's future. He would do great things, and she 
would share the success to which she could only in- 
directly contribute. But when she saw other men, 


158 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

less well found at starting, pass him on the voyage, 
her doubts obscured the earlier admiration. She 
loved him, perhaps, the better for his noble aim, but 
she lost respect for his judgment. She had a prac- 
tical faith in the unseen, but believed in a sober 
adaptation to the needs of the moment, and trusted 
that an over-ruling Providence would co-operate with 
her, from day to day, in this world, and help her 
across the threshold of the unknown. She hoped 
that a holiday in Africa would restore the balance of 
judgment in her husband’s mind and keep him in 
the right way — that path which is trodden by the 
majority. She believed that the accumulated ex- 
perience of the past remained with the race'as a whole, 
and was not the exclusive property of individuals. 

** I thought you shared some of my enthusiasm, 
although you do not altogether accept my ideas,” 
said Marcus, when he observed her unwillingness to 
start upon their journey. 

'' I don’t mind a rough sort of civilization, but I 
object to go among savages. Think, my dear Mar- 
cus, that while you are engaged upon your high-souled 
experiments, we women have to bear the troubles 
which do not occur to you. I am told that we 
should have to travel in litters, with a string of 
porters to carry the luggage, for the flies are fatal 
to horses and mules. There will be no spot for rest 
except in our tents, or in a vermin-infested hut.” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION I59 

When you reach the station on the lake you 
will be among Europeans again. I will not expose 
you to the risk of any longer journey. My further 
excursions will be in the company of men seasoned 
to the work.’' 

“ And the dangers of the road,” continued Mrs. 
Ruefold. Marshland, where fever always lurks, 
cannibals to meet, Arab slave-masters who hate us, 
and wild creatures in the bush. No towns, no shops, 
not even a chance of getting your washing done. I 
have heard of these miseries from the women 
here. They think that we are mad to attempt the 
enterprise, and that we may lose our lives.” 

Then I will go alone,” replied Marcus. ^^You 
can remain here until I have had enough of it, for 
go I must. If I do not return, the boys will come 
home to you. Zephyr will be safe, and thank Heaven 
there is now enough.” 

''You can surely find more heathen within a 
hundred miles of this settlement than you can con- 
vert in a lifetime,” she replied. 

" I am not certain to find the people I want,” he 
answered. " Their contact with the white popula- 
tion is not a preparation for the work of an evangel- 
ist. Give me one year face to face with the naked 
mind of the native, and I shall determine my calling 
for good and all.” 

Mrs. Ruefold found an ally in a visitor who 


i 6 o the quickening of CALIBAN: 

arrived at the mission house about this time. He 
was an American who had been sent by the societies 
of the United States to report upon the better dis- 
tribution of missionary enterprise throughout the 
world. Of course, the range of the inquiry was 
limited to the English speaking missions ; but the 
Rev. Potter Pankasset was on fire with the idea 
of bringing about a fusion of all, rather than a 
partition of the field. It was quite natural that 
Marcus and he should foregather. There was, how- 
ever, a great difference between the two men. Mar- 
cus Ruefold was a visionary, but Potter Pankasset 
was a man of the ardent practical order. To him 
the waste of means to an end was an affliction. It 
was purely a question of economies. 

“My dear Mr. Ruefold,” Pankasset would argue, 
“what is the use of going back to first principles at 
this time of day? Neither you nor I can start a 
new sect, and therefore, if we are to attempt to 
teach Christianity at all, it is necessary to range one- 
self under one or other of the standards. I had 
rather be a Romanist priest with a purpose than a 
Puritan apostle bound to make experiments.” 

“That is all very well,” answered Marcus. “If 
your present method of teaching had succeeded it 
would be unwise to disturb it, but does it satisfy 
you ? Have you a sufflcieut result after the century 
of noble toil ? ” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. i6i 

The root of the difficulty is in misguided 
efforts/' answered Pankasset promptly. We tread 
•upon each other’s toes, and waste time in wrangling. 
Rivalry and timidity have been the bane of our 
mission movements. We find ourselves planted in 
an unsuitable situation ; we dare not abandon it be- 
cause another church also holds the field. If all the 
contributions of the Christendom of English speech 
could be given to one central executive, the best result 
would follow. The native mind would no longer be 
perplexed with the differences of jarring creeds.” 

All very well,” answered Marcus, but how are 
you to obtain this united action ? If you succeeded 
in fusing the societies at home, you would still find a 
difference in doctrine and ritual among the teachers.” 

Some minor differences, I grant,” replied Pan- 
kasset, but a substantial agreement on the main 
points. Take the case of our magnificent Republic ; 
you have the consent of all the States to the federal 
bond, and yet there is margin for individual freedom 
to the several parts.” 

Yet you will have to meet a great diversity of 
religion and race. Will this uniform method con- 
vert a world of differing creeds ? ” 

Pray, why should it not ? ” asked Pankasset. 

Have you any other missionary religion so well 
equipped ? ” 

I am tempted to think that it is not through 


i 62 the quickening of CALIBAN: 

simple misadventure that the world has not yet 
been won for Christ/’ began Marcus. After many 
centuries of intercourse with Asia — to leave Africa 
out of the question — how slight has been the im- 
pression which Christian Europe has made upon 
her. Perhaps a nation has to complete the cycle of 
its ancient faith before it is ready for the faith of 
Palestine. Religions which are alive may have a 
work of preparation to perform which is distinctly 
beneficial. Deeper still, are there men who have 
not yet reached that spiritual nature which makes 
a true religion possible ? ” 

Pardon me, but you look at all Christian work 
through glasses tinted by your own comparative 
failure. London is overcrowded and trodden out of 
spirit. Look at America ; she is assimilating fresh 
material every day. Out of the cargoes of British, 
Irish, Teuton, and Norsemen she is continually 
building up the national life. An outbreak of 
racial peculiarity affects her no more than a tornado 
which may distress the corner of a State. So with 
missions ; they will draw into their fold all the 
various elements which perplex you, and the church 
will be the richer for the variety.” 

Marcus listened to this argument with resigna- 
tion ; he could have put the case as strongly against 
himself. ‘‘ Yet we hardly keep the enemy at bay,” 
he said. ‘‘ It is accounted a great matter if our con- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLLTION, 163 

verts keep pace with the growth of the population. 
In some parts of the world our influence is only 
nominal after years of labor.'’ 

Tell me, Mr. Ruefold, what you propose to 
do," said the American, turning sharply upon him. 

‘‘ I cannot speak positively until I come into 
touch with paganism in its original form. I wish to 
study the religious ideas of a people before I begin 
my apostleship. I must reverence the spiritual 
sense wherever I find it; it is the medium through 
which the Eternal works. I will preserve carefully 
those fragments of truth which are embedded in 
every religion which holds the faith of man, and I 
utterly refuse to cast down the idol before I have 
transferred the reverence of the worshiper to some- 
thing higher. The sensuous temperament of the 
African must also be taken into consideration, and an 
outlet provided for it. I may not succeed as an indi- 
vidual worker — probably I shall not ; but others will 
follow me with more skill to shape my rough idea." 

There was only one person who gave Marcus en- 
couragement. To Christina the present resting- 
place had not the charm she had expected. It was 
an extension of England into Africa, and there was 
no escape from the small parish into a neighboring 
township. The very ostriches on a farm a few miles 
off seemed infected by the atmosphere of the sta- 
tion, walked with a becoming propriety, and eyed 


1 64 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN. 

the laxer bipeds with a cold glance of censure. 
She turned with an aching desire to the children of 
the land. Her failure with Forest Bokrie had not 
diminished her sympathy, but only changed its di- 
rection. Marcus Ruefold was the one person who 
could sympathize, as an idealist, with the visions of 
others. She knew that her own persuasion had 
helped to bring the family to Africa, and resolved 
that, sa far as she could influence events, the expe- 
dition should not be sterile. 

It is difficult to live in a religious atmosphere 
without either responding to its influence or grow- 
ing insensibly harder. The member of a religious 
society who is familiar with the ritual or the catch- 
words of his faith will offer a stouter opposition to 
the appeal of the evangelist than the publican and 
the sinner. The spiritual life which is denied an 
entrance positively crusts the understanding. Not 
so with Christina, She had yielded, and, hardly 
conscious of the change stealing over her, was begin- 
ning to make a daily reference of the mystery and 
the difficulty of life to that speechless but over- 
shadowing Love which disentangles its intricacies 
for us. She knew not how, but into the few words 
of morning and evening prayer there had crept a 
new meaning. It was no longer a stringing of 
phrases like the telling of beads, but after each 
petition she dared to look up. 


XII. 


That breath of life, we share with breathing things, 

Glows in our veins, destroys and yet renews ; 

A bush that burns with fire, but yet remains, 

A wondrous sight ; yet one quick moment brings 
The sudden darkness ; only ashes left. 

Then of our share in common life bereft. 

We claim our heirship in the life of Him 
Who came to earth a Light, a Idving Flame ; 

As still He lives, our life must be the same ; 

Not a pale shadow flitting wan and dim. 

But something nobler, ampler, more serene. 

Than these fast panting years have ever been. 

They went northward by sea, touching at ports 
under the flag of Portugal, and completing their 
arrangements for the inland journey at the capital 
of a petty sultan. They were put on shore at a 
ragged little town upon an open beach. From this 
spot the march began, and between them and the 
object of their journey stretched many weeks of 
tedious traveling. There was not much actual 
danger, but the annoyances were serious. Deser- 
tions occurred, and it was difficult to supply the 
places of the trained porters. The haggling for 
food and necessaries with the chief of a village, 
experienced in exchange, was often a protracted and 
noisy negotiation. The country was more disturbed 
165 


1 66 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

than they had anticipated, for the numerous 
European expeditions which have riddled Eastern 
Africa had left their effects and bewildered the 
native mind. The chiefs shifted their allegiance 
from the European captain to the Arab slaver, or 
back again, without apparent reason. The power of 
a single native tribe to expand into a nation by con- 
quest, and so maintain a rude peace, was gone. In 
the old days a great danger could be avoided, 
because its orbit was fixed. If a tribe was on the 
warpath, you calculated its track, and escaped the 
devastation by a wide circuit ; but now a danger 
might start up at your feet when least expected. 

The absence of a fixed currency made the cater- 
ing tedious ; for the amount of cloth or wire to be 
given for food and wayleaves depended upon the 
caprice of each village headman. The constant 
passage of Europeans had raised the price of every- 
thing and invited extortion. Although the sojourn 
on the highlands of the South had started the party 
in good health, they could not expect to escape 
from the attacks of African fever. Zephyr was ailing 
and delicate ; yet they found it difficult to fix a 
cause for their anxiety. The child entered heartily 
into the romance of the road, and showed neither 
flagging interest nor fear. She would stand by open- 
eyed while the little Zanzibari, who was guide, lieu- 
tenant, and steward, argued with a hulking savage, 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 167 

of bloodthirsty mien and twice his size, over the 
price of a pair of fowls. She tried to allure the 
black baby children with pieces of sugar, and, when 
they ran from her in alarm, chased them into their 
huts without the slightest misgiving. On several 
occasions the presence of cannibals roused in her an 
intense curiosity. She delighted in the gentleness 
of their manners, and in the consideration they 
showed for the wants of others. She felt that the 
British Blunderbores had been maligned ; that they 
were probably quiet old gentlemen with white hair 
and spectacles, who only ate baby on the sly at the 
club. She accepted the emigration to Africa with- 
out question or doubt. But to a child like herself 
the world is a diorama, and, having been admitted 
to the show, you take your seat, front or back (that 
is settled at the pay office), and enjoy the passing 
pageant. 

Yet on Zephyr's horizon there were rising new 
points of interest. She felt toward her companion 
Lucy a certain respect for her piebald experience of 
life ; yet she felt a responsibility for the Zulu girl. 
She knew her father was deeply engaged upon the 
problem of mission work, and her own idea was to 
conduct an African mission in miniature. Language, 
custom, and her ignorance barred the way to an 
active prosecution of the work among the girls and 
children around her; but the quick wits of Lucy 


1 68 the quickening OF CALIBAN : 

could overcome these obstacles and open the way. 
She believed that there was nothing to hinder the 
spread of the Gospel message, and that its simple 
utterance would be as light shining in a dark place. 
Lucy, indeed, was a puzzle to her ; for although the 
girl had sat on the benches of the school, she con- 
tinued a Zulu, with the superstition of her nation 
still clinging to her. Lucy was a difficult convert to 
handle ; for she always admitted the force of the 
admonition which her young mistress delivered, but, 
with a liberality that Zephyr did not appreciate, she 
urged that there was allowance to be made for the 
other side. ‘‘ You see. Miss Zephyr,** she would 
say, after she had listened respectfully to a pathetic 
appeal, my father and mother were very decent 
people ; they did not steal nor drink. It is true that 
they had not your beautiful religion ; but that was 
not their fault.** 

Don*t you see, Lucy,** Zephyr would reply, that 
your gods, if they are real, are only of use to you in 
this world, but they won*t go with you into the dark ?** 

‘‘Yes, miss, I quite understand that, and so I 
want to make friends with Jesus Christ and learn 
the Gospels ; but our simple gods of the bush may 
understand black people*s wants better than your 
grand heavenly Father.** 

“ You don*t really understand Jesus if you talk 
like that,** pursued Zephyr warmly. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 169 

‘‘He was never a black man, miss, and I am 
afraid that he cannot know all we think and feel. 
I am thankful to make a friend of him ; we poor 
Africans have not too many friends. I hope he 
will keep a corner of heaven all to us by ourselves ; 
we would rather not join in the same hymns with 
the white people.’' 

At last Zephyr’s spirits began to droop in sym- 
pathy with the failing of strength in her frail little 
body. The weakness which was growing upon her 
compelled the party to halt in as dry and healthy a 
spot as could be found. Marcus consulted his medi- 
cal books and taxed the powers of his slender case of 
medicine ; but he did little good with his treatment. 
There was not much fever, but the girl was wasting, 
and her strength, with now and again a reflux, was 
surely ebbing. Lucy was accustomed to attacks of 
illness in European women and children which ran 
a severe course, and subsided when the crisis was 
past. When day followed day without an increase 
of the fever, yet with that fluttering of the strength 
which was a significant symptom, she took fright 
and communicated her alarm to the others. She 
exerted herself to obtain, in the villages around 
them, certain herbs which were accounted of value 
by the natives ; but it was only after the orthodox 
remedies had failed that Zephyr’s parents reluc- 
tantly permitted these strange broths to be tasted. 


170 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

The Zulu girl gave herself up entirely to the pa- 
tient, and slept at the foot of the bed at night. The 
report of the illness soon spread, and messages of 
sympathy came from the friendly headmen of the 
district. Some of the actively benevolent sent their 
own witch doctors to exorcise the evil spirit which 
had fastened on the white maiden. They thought 
that, as the wonderful drugs had failed, it must be 
a case of bewitchment. The girls and children 
would creep up to the encampment to get a glimpse 
under the tent, and when Lucy dropped into a doze 
on a warm afternoon, she would wake to a row of 
black eyes peeping beneath the canvas, and would 
rise in wrath to drive off the intruders. Sometimes 
Zephyr spoke cheerfully, as if her recovery were a 
certainty. This tone of hope brought a sensation of 
choking into Christina’s throat, and it was less affect- 
ing to hear Zephyr speak of a possible future with- 
out her. 

‘^If I go away, Chris,” she would say — ‘‘if I go 
away from you all, you must promise to do your 
best for my little mission.” 

“ What is that. Zephyr ? ” 

“ Why, the girls like myself, and the small chil- 
dren. They need a girl to talk to them in their 
own tongue; girls can only talk to girls. If I am 
not here, will you speak for me? Just tell them 
how I passed away, dreaming of them, thinking 


A MODERN STORY OF EV0LD7V0N. 17 1 

and praying for them, will you ? It may do them 
good.” 

Lucy treated the black population in an un- 
ceremonious way, and hustled them about in her 
anxiety to secure every advantage for her charge. 
Apparently the bodies and souls of a score-of them 
were not equal to the one life she valued so highly. 
Marcus knew that his determination to get at the 
heart of heathendom had brought his child into 
danger, and all the natural sense of fatherhood 
pleaded against the sacifice. For a few days he 
passed through that experience which comes to those 
who work for the world — a longing for a restful 
obscurity — the homespun of the cottage rather than 
the purple of the ruler. He could not trust himself 
to sit for long with his child, lest his own sorrow 
should betray ttself. He would cheer her with a 
few words, repeat a phrase or two of Scripture, and 
utter a sentence of prayer. 

One night the weight of the approaching shadow 
oppressed him intolerably, and he spent several 
hours in an aimless walk in the open air. The 
heavens were clear and full of stars. He looked up 
to them with that appeal of helplessness which man 
has given for ages to those sparkling points. No, 
they were unconscious of suffering mankind,, and 
only formed a part of that universal material which 
knows nothing of the moral life and its burdens. 


172 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

He closed his eyes; the very beauty of the universe 
mocked him by its callousness. Where was that 
Eternal Fatherhood from which his own fatherly 
feelings had sprung ? In groping after the unseen 
it appeared to him as if the Deity had retired to a 
distance and left the empty hands clutching at 
space. He walked backward and forward without a 
clear knowledge of where he was going. In his 
hand he carried a sunshade for a stick, which 
occasionally he put up mechanically. Perhaps 
unconsciously, he found a refuge under it from the 
shining dome of heaven. The same impulse may 
have moved him at last to leave the open and 
approach the deep shadow of some trees. The 
wind was rising, and the sweep of it across the ex- 
posed ground disturbed him. He started when a 
hand was laid upon his arm, and looked round im- 
patiently. There was the little Zanzibari, respectful 
and silent. 

‘‘What is the matter?’' cried Marcus hastily. 
“ Why do you steal upon me like a ghost ? Is Miss 
Zephyr worse ? Speak ! ” 

“ No, master,” he replied, “ although the little lady 
will not be with us much longer. I have been look- 
ing for you ; I know you are in great trouble, and 
feared that you might wander too near to the wood.” 

“Why should I not? Pray what can hurt me? 
We are well known, the people are kind enough.” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 1 73 

You keep out in the open, master, safe enough 
there,'' continued the man. There are two bad 
fellows hiding in the wood ; they want your um- 
brella." 

Want my umbrella ? " 

Yes, a very good umbrella, green and white. 
Don't go too near ; you would struggle for it ; they 
might kill you. Stay in the open, master. I can 
watch under the starlight ; you are quite safe here." 

Marcus was touched by the devotion of this man, 
who had only a common contract with him for ser- 
vice. If this African Mohammedan watched his 
movements, and cared for his life, must there not 
be sleepless eyes upon him ? It could never be that 
the Power which had led him so far would desert 
him at this troubled moment. He turned back to 
the encampment and entered the tent again. 
Zephyr was sleeping and waking fitfully, at best 
half conscious, moaning and restless. There was 
a lamp hung from the pole at the top, and it cast 
shadows about the canvas, as if the spirits had come 
from the forest to dance around the bed. The 
wind cried and howled like a hungry beast, and 
Marcus could not help thinking of the sharks which 
follow ships for days, as if they scented death, and 
of the carrion creatures which rifle shallow graves. 

The thin breath came short and jerkily. She 
would whisper an inarticulate remark, which the 


174 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

guess of love could only interpret. The hours 
crawled on, and just before daybreak a gray cloud 
swept over the pinched little face. The wind rose 
and fell, until, in one of its rough gusts, the summer 
breath so soft and sweet was swept away. Zephyr 
was gone. 

On the advice of his lieutenant, Marcus nego- 
tiated with the local chiefs for a piece of ground in 
which to lay the body of his child. Refusing the 
offer which was courteously pressed upon him to 
accept it as a gift, he insisted upon paying the price 
for his African Machpelah. A short burial service, 
an English hymn, and they left the place for ever. 
In spite of the remonstrance of Mrs. Ruefold, 
Lucifer had brought the hired mourners of the 
village to dance round the tent with a clicking and 
clanking from bracelets and anklets, and although 
this droned dirge was distasteful to the parents, 
Christina regarded the effort with secret sympathy. 
The mind of the girl had stirred and grown much 
during this time. Her father's death had been 
accepted by her as a sad but inevitable incident. 
The passing of Zephyr was more to her — a gap ih 
the natural course of life — a marginal note on the 
page which weakened the interest of the book by 
casting a doubt upon the continuance of the story. 
For the first time there entered into her mind the 
consciousness of a world beyond. The child, who 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 175 

was to her a few days ago a breathing reality, had 
been removed somewhere, and was leading an ordi- 
nary life under new conditions. Upon Christina 
descended the mysterious powers of the world to 
come. 

It was a tedious and melancholy journey back to 
the coast, but Marcus had surrendered the idea of 
proceeding inland for the present. They returned 
by a coasting steamer, and on to the old mission 
settlement in South Africa. Potter Pankasset was 
still there : a few excursions and some copious 
entries in his diary had filled that interval which to 
the travelers had been so full of pathos. 

‘‘ What are you thinking of doing ? he ventured 
to ask Marcus. 

Rest and recruit for the present,” was the reply. 

And after? ” 

I must not let a physical accident divert me from 
my work,” answered Marcus. My child might 
have died in London ; there was always fever more 
or less with us in the autumn.” 

Since I have been here, I have heard about your 
brother and his position in the tropical district. 
Apply for a place on the staff at his old station,” 
said Pankasset. 

They would never take me, ” threw in Marcus. 

Not as the chief, of course, but as a supernumer- 
ary. They don’t object to theorists nowadays, if 


176 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 


brains are a part of the bargain. You would never 
ask them for a pension, and are just the man for 
them.’^ 

I could not work under a society. I am too old 
for rules,” said Marcus. 

My dear man, you must work with somebody ; 
you can't charter steamers, make treaties with the 
natives, and open up the country all by yourself. 
Look you, the place is ready of access by water; 
you can get there at one-tenth of the effort you will 
expend in reaching the Big Lakes. Ah ! you will 
level down to our average ideas in a very little time. 
Others have tried those short cuts across country, 
but they have all come back to the high road.” 

Christina would not like Union Vineyard,” mut- 
tered Marcus to himself. 

‘‘ That young lady, your brother's daughter. Yes, 
I understand, she is too good looking to spend her 
days in Africa,” said the gallant American. 

Already Christina found that England was calling 
her back. There was a letter from Professor Racer, 
giving a long account of Forest Bokrie. She then 
learned for the first time that Racer had taken great 
trouble to keep Bokrie in view. He concluded that 
Bokrie had done something outrageous, and had put 
himself beyond the pale of pardon. He had found 
him, on one occasion, looking with a dejected air at 
the water in Victoria Park, as if he longed to bring 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 1 77 

his life to an end, but doubted whether the water was 
deep enough to cover decently his lanky frame. 
But no thought of suicide had flashed across the 
clouded mind of Bokrie. Indeed, it is a question 
whether self-destruction is possible to the purely 
animal nature. In a frenzy, beasts have made away 
with themselves, but, probably, as an incident in 
their madness, and not with intent. The recoil from 
the present carried Bokrie back to the past. He re- 
called Christina as the thirsty man thinks of the 
fountain and palms he has left a day’s march behind 
him. 

He was earning a livelihood at the music halls 
scattered across the east and south of London by 
mimic combats with animals and feats of strength. 
The customs of civilized life had been burned into 
him by his earlier experiences, and he yielded obedi- 
ence to them as the dog and the horse learn the 
laws of mankind, and conform to them by habit, 
even out of sight of the law-givers. A wholesome 
remembrance of his former adventures preserved his 
respect for the police and made him shy of the 
bottle. There may have also remained with him a 
sense of Christina’s presence ; the approval and dis- 
approval which she expressed making the rudiments 
of a conscience. “ Miss Ruefold would wish you 
to do this or would blame you for that ” was at 
first a potent spell. But the fits of sullenness, with 


178 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

occasional outbreaks of senseless rage, proved a seri- 
ous difficulty. 

Racer paid a man to look after him when his 
duties at Cambridge took the professor away. He 
tried hard to get his pupil to undertake a definite line 
of study. It was useless. Bokrie would begin well, 
show intellectual acuteness, and then wander off on 
some by-path, which he had touched accidentally, 
to find himself far away from the original subject. 
In the course of a few months there was a decline in 
the man’s health, and Racer saw that the life of a 
great town was telling upon him. Then Racer pro- ^ 
posed to get him a passage back to Africa. 

What am I to do when I get there ? ” asked 
Bokrie piteously. Your London ways have spoiled 
me for a bush life. I cannot live in the old freedom 
now that I have tasted the fruit of civilization. You 
can’t turn out animals you have broken to your ser- 
vice to the plains again, to range for themselves 
with the wild cattle. Let me wait in England ; here 
I may see her once more before I die ; she may 
come back.” 

Bokrie had been too cunning to tell the professor 
the reason for his dismissal, and so Racer had writ- 
ten innocently to Christina : I think a word from 
you might allay the poor fellow’s distress. He 
would come out quickly enough if you were to give 
the signal. Perhaps your uncle could get someone 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


179 


to look after him until he got work, or could be sent 
into the inrerior. He will do no good here, and, if 
he stays longer, will drift either into hospital or 
jail/' 

‘^Tell him to come here; no, that was out of 
the question,’' thought Christina. Yet her heart 
was empty, her hands were free, and the old duty 
was waiting for her. The suggestion of Marcus to 
go to Union Vineyard fell in with her own wishes. 
If she. returned to England for a little while, she 
might persuade Bokrie to go back on his own 
account, and her uncle would find him employment. 
Afterward she would join her friends, and take up 
her teaching at the mission school. This was the 
limit of her horizon. It was finally determined that 
Christina should return to England for a few months, 
and then join her relations at Union Vineyard. 
The sisters of Professor Racer had offered to receive 
her. But she was not to go alone. Lucy had been 
listening to the discussion, and at length burst in 
with the appeal : 

Take me with you. Miss Christina, do. I can’t 
be left behind now little Miss Zephyr has gone. I 
feel so lonely, and you have taught me to love you.” 

‘^That is out of the question,” began Mrs. Rue 
fold severely. ^Hf Miss Christina needs a maid, 
she will find plenty in London.” 

‘‘ But no one to love her as I do,” put in the girl. 


loo 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN. 


You will be only in the way/' continued Mrs. 
Ruefold. You know nothing of English manners, 
and your foreign appearance will attract attention 
wherever you go. No, it is not to be thought of." 

Lucifer was struck dumb by this merciless argu- 
ment, and looked miserable. 

“ I am afraid you would not be happy if I did 
take you," said Christina, seeking to soften the dis- 
appointment. England is so different to Africa ; 
you belong to this country, and would feel like a 
castaway in the damp gray air." 

Oh, Miss Ruefold, I feel like the girl we read 
about in school — the one who would not leave her 
mother-in-law. ‘ Where thou goest I will go ; thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God my God.’ 
If I keep close to you, miss, I am sure to be safe." 
There was real feeling in this petition, and the mat- 
ter was arranged, at length, as Lucy prayed. 


XIII. 


I cannot worship under the naked dome of the desolate blue. 
The smoke of my sacrifice blows back to earth when it reaches the 
crest of the hill, or the flickering tree-top. Ask your Deity to stoop 
to the humble measure of my thought, and under any form — tree, 
beast, or man — I will do him homage. 

The two sisters of Professor Racer received 
Christina and her Zulu maid into their house. They 
were both good women, older than their brother, 
but without any of his special ability. To Martha 
and Phyllis life was a quiet round of domestic 
duties, agreeably varied by attendance at church 
services. An unexpected pattern of needlework 
gave zest to the regular occupations of a whole week. 
Yet as the close observer may detect a shape and 
marking peculiar to each leaf of the same bough, so 
there was a difference between the sisters which was 
apparent to the guests. Both were neat little bodies, 
who had retained the elastic movement of youth far 
into middle age. In dealing with strangers they 
always appeared united in opinion, and quoted each 
other with discreet approval, but this was due to the 
wish to maintain a continuity of policy in foreign 
affairs.'* Martha was the elder, and she was strongly 
conservative ; whereas Phyllis represented the ‘‘ for- 

i8i 


1 82 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

ward movement. She always found the most 
original patterns in wool-work, and when the ne- 
cessity arose for changing the servant or repri- 
manding a tradesman, the unpleasant duty fell to 
her lot. Their brother was at Cambridge and could 
not leave his work immediately, so he wrote a word 
of welcome to Christina and sent her Bokrie's pres- 
ent address. He added that Bokrie had been more 
tractable during the last two months, and that the 
man’s capacity for acquiring knowledge was greater 
than he had supposed. For the moment Bokrie had 
to follow his music hall engagements, and it was 
from these that Racer felt there was a danger of 
relapse. But the money was of consequence, and he 
did not see how the man was to be kept at study 
without some employment to furnish it. It was 
clear from this letter that Racer had some course in 
view, but Christina left him to be his own inter- 
preter. 

Bokrie knew that she was coming back from 
Africa, and this anticipation had soothed him, and 
quickened his industry. He seemed greatly relieved 
to find that she received him with her old kindness, 
and without a reference, even in her manner, to the 
last unfortunate interview. When he had recovered 
from his apprehension his animal spirits rose, and he 
showed the joy he felt at seeing her again. 

Yes, Miss Ruefold, the professor has been good 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 183 

to me, but it was of no use until I heard that you 
were really coming. Then I could work at his 
books, not for my own sake, or to please him, but 
all for you.’' 

What are you doing ? ” 

A great many things — Latin, Greek, mathe- 
matics. I have a capital memory, and the mission- 
aries started me well.” 

And what is to be the end ? ” 

The professor wants me to go up to Cambridge. 
He says that I shall get all the soul that is begging 
in this world there, or not at all. Yes, I can pass 
his examinations — that is, if I don’t break out just 
at the wrong moment. But that won’t bring me 
up to you white people. You are the only person. 
Miss Ruefold, who will ever do anything for me, 
and if you fail, he can’t do it with all his learning.” 

I don’t like to hear you talking like that,” said 
Christina ; you treat me as if I were one of your 
African idols. What can a weak girl like I am do 
for you ? I can only show you where to find the 
light.” 

I must not say, I must not tell you,” muttered 
Bokrie to himself, walking up and down the room. 
^‘You will be angry again with me,” he continued, 
stopping short and looking at her. 

‘‘You had better say what you mean,” replied 
Christina, not without curiosity. 


1 84 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

I went into a church — large, dimly lighted, with 
tall candles on the altar. The church was almost 
empty. There were only two or three persons in 
the big building. It was as still as death. My feet 
clattered on the pavement, and the noise made me 
ashamed, as if I had disturbed the dead. The win- 
dows were all pictures. There were paintings and 
images along the walls, and there was a perfume in 
the air. There were two women kneeling before the 
altar, and I knelt too, for there was a beautiful 
woman and her child standing on a pedestal above 
the table. Down from the upper windows fell a 
shower of sunlight upon her lovely head. The gold 
about her shone brightly, but not so brightly as the 
kind faces of the mother and her child. They were 
not looking at each other, not making each other 
happy, but they turned their faces upon the women 
kneeling before them. No wonder that I also knelt. 
The lady was like you, and I thought ‘ That is my 
goddess, my Christina.' " 

Hush, hush ! " put in the girl. 

It is true. Miss Ruefold, I worshiped you there 
as I knelt. Then the organ quivered and trembled ; 
there was no service, but someone was practising ; 
it was played softly. The music dropped on to me 
like a cloud from the sky ; it enveloped me in a mist. 
I seemed to lose the consciousness of time and place. 
But I never lost the face of the woman \ it lived 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 185 

and spoke ; it was you indeed. I had died, and was 
living again, a new creature. I was fit for you now, 
and your love was drawing me up to yourself.'’ 

Be silent, Bokrie ; you must not even think such 
a thought. That was the Virgin Mother and her 
Son. You can then realize that there is another life ; 
a new world? Tell me that you have got thus far.” 

No, no, it was only a beautiful dream ; but I 
will strive hard to be more worthy of you here ’» 
I won’t trust the * by-and-by,’ which will only cheat 
us. Perhaps I may be able to climb as high as the 
thick candles which throw light on your feet.” 

‘‘You grieve me to hear you talk like that,” said 
Christina, with tears in her eyes. “ We have lost 
Zephyr — you remember the little girl ; but it is all 
true, Bokrie, indeed it is. We can hear the patter 
of their footsteps ; they try to make us keep step 
with them.” 

“ Professor Racer does not say that,” remarked 
Bokrie. 

“ You must not take Professor Racer’s opinion on 
these things,” replied Christina quickly. “ He is a 
great authority upon books, but he cannot under- 
stand that which he does not feel. Let me lead you 
along the right way, Bokrie.” 

“Not to-day, if you please, dear lady; I am 
bound to be at the ‘ Cat and Monkey ’ by half-past 
seven sharp.” 


l 86 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

Lucifer had seen Bokrie for the first time, and the 
impression she had received of her fellow continental 
was not a flattering one. I hope you won’t think 
too much of that black man, Miss Christina,” she 
began, with a jealous appreciation of her mistress’ 
interest. 

'' You ought to pity him, Lucy, and be the first to 
say a word in his favor,” replied Christina, in a tone 
of reproof. 

He knows which side his bread is buttered,” 
said the handmaiden, with a dogged movement of 
the head. 

He needs our compassion ; look at his life,” 
said Christina. 

“ I have heard all about it,” put in Lucy. 

“ Caught like a hare in a trap when he was a child, 
and chained up in a mission school ” 

'' With plenty of meat and white bread,” threw 
in the listener. ‘‘ Much better to have three meals 
a day, than to pick up your living under the trees 
and take your food mostly raw.” 

** He was brought to England to work for his 
living like a monkey or a dancing dog,” continued 
Christina, working herself into indignation. 

And making enough money by it to stock a 
large farm if he could only keep off the drink,” 
chimed in her companion. 

Then, without sympathy or help, to fall lower 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 187 

and lower, until he can hardly find work enough in 
this strange land to keep himself from want — a toy 
broken and cast aside,” said her mistress, without 
noticing the interruption. 

‘‘ And because he is too lazy to earn his living, he 
tries to reach the purse of a kind young lady by 
making himself to be all forlorn.” 

How can you be so heartless, Lucy, to one of 
your own skin ? ” 

Dear Miss Christina, you are so good and easy ; 
but take care of the whitey-brown folks — they are 
not to be trusted. They have rubbed their black 
skin until they are neither one thing nor the other.” 

Phyllis Racer offered Christina packets of picture 
cards and tractlets for the benefit of Bokrie ; but 
Martha Racer objected to informal attempts at con- 
version, and desired to know why the collecting box 
stood on the shelf, if the missionaries were not 
equal to the handling of colored persons. Martha 
believed firmly in the penny-in-the-slot ” principle. 

The Fallowfetts had known of Christina’s return, 
and Vesper declared herself in favor of a reconcilia- 
tion. It did not require much diplomacy when the 
girls were together. Christina had not realized how 
much she was in want of a woman’s sympathy until 
she found herself in the arms of her cousin. Vesper 
felt that Christina had been hardly treated, and 
although she considered the girl’s conduct as a 


1 88 the quickening OF CALIBAN : 

wicked waste of social opportunity, she secretly 
admired her for that scorn of the conventional life. 
There was another reason for her friendly feeling. 
The engagement with Gracebroke had been broken ; 
the estrangement was gradual, but it was now 
complete. 

‘‘The fact is, Christina, you bewitched him. I am 
sure you did not mean it, but Vincent was not the 
same man after you left the country. I dare say he 
will come after you again.’* 

“You insult me with the suggestion,” replied 
Christina hotly. “You know that I shall never 
marry.” 

“ I have heard other girls make the same remark ; 
but when the right man arrived, the noblest form of 
life was found when half a dozen bridesmaids fol- 
lowed them into the church.” 

Christina had been talked about during her 
absence from England. The missionary societies 
had received reports of her uncle’s movements. 
Travelers who had met the party in Africa had 
brought accounts of them to London. A note in a 
society paper, a chance allusion in public, kept alive 
the idea that Bokrie’s position had not yet been 
determined in scientific circles, and that a romantic 
professor and an enthusiastic young woman had 
set to work to produce a soul in this African 
enigma. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 189 

It was unpleasant to the Fallowfetts to hear Sir 
Bathcourt Blizzard talk about his ape-client and 
inquire for the modern Portia, without the ability to 
tell him much about her. To have a relation who 
attracted attention by her originality gave a degree 
of distinction to the Fallowfetts ; for to a world 
tired of its round of scandal Christina brought a 
new emotion. Under all these circumstances Mrs. 
Fallowfett thought she was doing a wise action in 
taking a large-minded view of Christina’s former 
conduct, and in visiting Acacia Villa with open arms 
and a smile of benevolence. Christina was easily 
overborne, and put it to herself that in going back 
to the Fallowfetts she was only returning in the 
direction of her fathers wishes. Of course Lucy 
went with her, and tasted the bitterness of the ser- 
vant’s hall. Here for the first time, among white 
people, she was made to feel the inferiority of her 
race and the terrible deficiency which she had to 
make up in her duties as a private maid. However, 
there were compensations. The hair-dressers’ shops 
afforded her diversion ; for here she felt that 
Europe and Africa met on equal ground. Except 
for the quality of the hair, the centuries of Europe 
had not placed her far in advance of her darker 
sister. The masses were supported in position by 
practically the same methods, and the particular 
arrangement of coil and frizzette was really a matter 


190 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

of individual taste. The long pins which supported 
the fabrics were not only common to both conti- 
nents, but could trace a descent from prehistoric 
skewers of an infinite antiquity. 

Christina tried to persuade her maid to be dressed 
in those yards of soft material and of uniform color 
in which the women of India appear to advantage ; 
but the girl firmly, though gently, resisted the 
attempt. She admired the costumes and head gear 
of Bond Street and Oxford Street. She insisted 
that in dress the European women and her African 
sister met upon common ground. Color of skin, 
social customs, forms of religion, might differ widely, 
but when they were choosing a dress or a bonnet, 
the whole sex was united in feeling. The primitive 
instinct was hardly disguised by the efforts at indif- 
ference which civilized nations impose upon their 
women. Christina gave way to her maid’s wishes, 
and regretted the inferiority which only appeared 
when Lucy was dressed like the other maid-servants. 

Christina was just entering an omnibus at Hyde 
Park Corner, when someone uttered her name. She 
turned, to find herself face to face with Gracebroke. 
She agreed to his proposal to turn into the park ; 
for it seemed that it would be best for her to hear 
all that he wished to say, and to finish with the 
matter. He did not expect that she would accept 
the suggestion, and, at first, his tongue failed him. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 19 1 

They walked in silence ; it was morning, and the 
park was empty. 

I am glad to have seen you again, Miss Rue- 
fold,” he began, when they had found a seat. ‘‘ I 
know you think badly of me ; I can see it in your 
eyes. Vesper has given me up ; but will you also 
throw me over? I mean, of course, will you never 
care for me again — in the sense that you care for 
Bokrie ? I envy the brute ; anything that he does 
bad is set down to original sin, but my peccadilloes 
are signs of moral degeneration. I wish I had 
degenerated sufficiently to excite the sympathy of 
good women like yourself.” 

‘‘ You are not speaking seriously, and under a pre- 
tended confession you are making fun of my efforts 
for the good of others.” 

Making fun ! I should think not ; and if I ap- 
pear to do so, it is only to hide my own sore heart. 
Let that be a proof that I am not beyond hope of 
recovery ; while there is pain the nerves are not 
dead. Believe me, if you can, that you are the only 
escape to me from blank, gross materialism. I 
could marry Vesper, and remain as I am, a man of 
the world, thrifty in its use, but a simple epicurean. 
With you that would not be possible. I could not 
offer you marriage, for in my present state you would 
be a constant reproach. The purity, the beauty of 
your life, would be a refined hell to me. Yet if you 


192 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN.' 

give me a whisper of encouragement — I am now on 
the brink ; if I let go my hold on you, I am bound 
to shoot down. I don’t ask you to speak a word ; 
but if from your silence I might gather that, after 
conflict, I might come again at some future time 
and ” 

She stood up and was prepared to say some- 
thing, but he stopped her. 

‘‘ Spare me the utterance which would leave 
me no hope. Let me have at least a space for 
imagination. I can put into your lips gracious 
words which you might have spoken. Good-by ; 
good-day.” He left her before she could recover 
from her surprise, and she wondered whether it was 
only a fine piece of acting. 

The great missionary societies were anxious to 
know whether there was any hope of reducing ex- 
penses by changing their methods, and Christina 
soon found herself in correspondence with one or 
two of them. Marcus Ruefold, with his one-man 
system and his free hand, was an object of cautious 
interest to them, and his course was followed with 
closer attention than they chose to admit. Restless 
critics worked uncomfortable sums in long division, 
and others advised the dispatch of new men without 
the two coats or the scrip. 

On one occasion she met her old friend. Sir Bath- 
court Blizzard, who treated her with the same in- 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 193 

dulgent kindness, and listened to the recent chapters 
of her history. But it was clear that he put her 
story into a vacant space of his mosaic of life, treat- 
ing it as a contribution to the general pattern, but 
not as an essential part. To him the hopes and 
fears, the doubt and belief of mankind, were inter- 
esting as a study. The machinery of advocacy had 
taken from pathos its tears, and from tragedy its red 
fire. He could produce the same effects ; could even 
create the very emotion in himself when it was re- 
quired for his persuasive rhetoric. 

At last Racer came down from Cambridge and 
called upon Christina. She was startled to find that 
he had changed his opinion since he had written to 
her in Africa, and now thought that he was able, 
single handed, to bring Bokrie round. 

‘‘You have done your work. Miss Ruefold, by 
merely coming home,’' he explained to her. “ Bokrie 
is a different creature already; your presence has 
calmed him. Like those patients who are sensitive 
to hypnotic influence, he does not require the 
passes of the hand or the spoken word. The doc- 
tor has only to be seen, or to send the message of 
peace. I think we shall make something of him 
yet.” 

“ How are you setting to work? ” asked Christina, 
a little surprised at this unexpected discharge from 
responsibility. 


194 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

I want to get him to Cambridge ; he may do well 
there. Now, Miss Ruefold, I am going to make a 
strange request, but I hope you will fall in with it. 
Don’t let us have another word of religion. Bokrie 
has had too much of it ; I believe that it has retarded 
his mental growth. Let education have a fair field, 
and if his mind could be enlarged and filled with 
new thought, you will find that the power to select 
and direct — the attributes of the soul, if you like so 
to call them — will develop into average power. 
Then you will have a living man, with faculties com- 
plete, built up out of mental training. You can add 
religion or not, as you choose, afterward — just as you 
may teach him music or painting.” 

When do you send for him ? ” 

At once ; the sooner the better. It is not the 
freshman’s term ; but I want to get him out of 
London and temptation. I thought the money 
would be the difficulty ; but, to my great surprise, 
the fellow has been saving; he has got a regular 
hoard. I believe that he intended to buy a gold 
fillet, necklace, bracelets, and I know not how 
much more for you. Miss Ruefold. Really, if you 
like to set up as a divinity in Africa, that fellow 
would act as your prophet, and burn incense to 
you. I know you will renounce your gold chains 
in favor of a year at Cambridge, by way of experi- 
ment.” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 1 95 

And you do not wish me to see him again ? 
said Christina slowly. 

I don’t mean that. You will see him, of course; 
I could not keep him away from you. You shall 
have your turn again, if I fail to do the work. 
Meanwhile, let us see whether it is to be Diana or 
Christ.” 


XIV. 


Man gave names to the animals, and then tried to tell the number 
of the stars. But the deeper he gazed into space the thicker thronged 
the worlds upon his sight. Then he gave up the task in despair, and 
turned to his lordship of earth, only to find that the life beneath his 
feet was a million-fold more than he had reckoned. So he left the 
problems unfinished in the hands of his Teacher. 

It was a fine open evening at Cambridge, and 
Professor Racer and Bokrie were sauntering along 
the Backs. The spring was stealing into the trees, 
making a delicate gray haze in the lofty fretwork of 
branch and twig. The rooks kept one another to 
their nest building by drawling cries of encourage- 
ment. The air was lively with the sense of a good 
time coming.’* There were voices which shot up 
behind walls and below bridges from the hidden 
river. Skirting every stretch of grass were parties 
of young fellows, and through every archway, or 
open screen of stone, could be seen the striped 
jackets hurrying to the tennis lawns and the boats. 
The long sweep of the college buildings in their 
variety and repose reassured the mind with the idea 
of stability, and chastened the vivacity of the spring 
with a sense of permanence. 

Bokrie was fixed in lodgings within reach of his 
mentor. He had come up willingly, assured by 

196 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 197 

Christina that it was her wish for him to do so, and 
consoled by a promise that she would not leave the 
country again without giving him warning. More 
than that, she had undertaken to pay him a visit, at 
least once, in the present term. Racer had resolved 
to devote more time to him during these earlier days 
than he could regularly afford, as it was of great im- 
portance that Bokrie should be steered clear of those 
currents into which an unwary freshman may drift, 
and out of which it is difficult to extricate him later. 
Racer busied himself at the outset in getting intro- 
ductions for Bokrie, and in watching the first effect 
of the changed life upon him. An English univer- 
sity is accustomed to gather its members from the 
East and the West, so that one more stranger passes 
unnoticed in the crowd of swarthy foreigners. It 
was, however, soon evident to the professor that he 
could not conceal the antecedent life of his queer 
friend, and so good sense showed him that the best 
plan would be to make a point of the interest of the 
case, and, by an appeal to the consideration of the 
authorities, to treat the experiment as a matter of 
concern to the whole community. 

Already an indefinite rumor had spread among 
the tutors and heads of colleges, but the under- 
graduates themselves put the story into proper form, 
as most of them were acquainted with the Happy 
Valley ” and its leading stars. A mild note of dis- 


19 ^ THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

approval had been given by the more conservative 
members of the ruling host ; but, on the whole, it 
was considered that the introduction of Bokrie might 
be treated as an amiable scientific dissipation. 
Bokrie himself obtained that sudden popularity 
with the rank and file to which it is difficult to fit a 
cause. The better class of undergraduates picked 
him up from that compassionate interest which 
Racer sought to foster ; and others took their part in 
the patronage in the hope that he would make good 
sport for them. Their hospitality, freely offered to 
him, threatened to ruin his opportunity for serious 
work, and Racer felt compelled to continue his com- 
panionship lest Bokrie might be sucked down in the 
maelstrom. For it was a new pleasure to the wild 
man to be free from the company of those who 
made a profit out of him, or who helped him to vice 
for the sake of pillage. There was no ill-nature in 
the selfish humor which made a butt of him, and if 
he had to be seen home by a couple of boon com- 
panions, his watch and money at least were s*afe. 
The power of his memory, which had impressed 
Racer before he came up, now asserted itself in a 
more remarkable way. He could read a book and 
repeat it verbally after the study of a single day. 
Problems which worked themselves by the applica- 
tion of known rules, and a kind of mechanical 
reasoning through suggestion, were easy enough to 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


199 


him ; but in a selection of facts and a careful induc- 
tion he would be entirely at fault. Poetry, by its 
rhythm, and the images it called up, impressed him ; 
but his mind stood still at the close of the verse. 

Before the end of the term Christina fulfilled her 
promise, and spent two or three days in Cambridge. 
The two little sisters of the professor came with her. 
It was a gala time, at the end of the May Week,'* 
and June had graciously put on her best weather. 
Although pretty girls were a glut in the market, 
there were admiring glances directed to Christina. 
The sisters of the professor could be identified at 
once. Bokrie was now a familiar figure, but who 
was that tall girl who was talking to him with such 
affable familiarity? She smiled upon the wretch, 
looked him full in the face, and treated him like 
a member of the family. It was impossible to think 
that she was his sister. On the other hand, it was 
treason to English maidenhood to assume that a 
girl would listen to the admiration of a creature 
from the bush. Bokrie was very well as a study in 
anthropology ; but Englishmen cannot stand by to 
see an active specimen step out of its museum and 
carry off one of their women. The good humor 
with which Bokrie had been regarded when he 
posed only as a very superior example of a lower 
type, vanished when he had the audacity to act as if 
he stood upon a platform of equality with the rest. 


200 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 


Of all this Christina was happily unconscious, and 
the bright sun and summer sky brought back her 
forgotten gayety. She was glad to hear the story of 
Bokrie’s progress, to encourage him on the prospect 
of his examination in the autumn. She was struck 
by the purpose which seemed to assert itself in his 
conversation, and did not know that it was only the 
catchword of the place — a quotation from the eager 
talk of his fellows — to which she was listening. A 
regret tinged her satisfaction in the recollection that 
religion had nothing to do with this improvement ; 
but she comforted herself with the suggestion that 
after all the Christian air of the University might 
have helped him. The college chapels, the eccle- 
siastical architecture, were a witness to a power 
underlying the educational work. She ventured to 
give a hint to Racer both of her regret and of the 
hope, but he promptly repudiated them. 

‘^No, no. Miss Ruefold; the University has far 
outgrown its mediaeval dress. The form may re- 
main for several generations longer, I dare say, but 
the spirit has departed, thank goodness.** 

Yet you have your daily services ; your old 
customs ** 

‘^Yes, yes! I know that,** interrupted the pro- 
fessor impatiently ; but they mean nothing. 
Those prayers read in musty chapels, on chill morn- 
ings, don*t touch the morals of the men in the least. 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


201 


Half the men who conduct them would be glad to 
have the farce abolished, but they dare not propose 
it. If you began to touch the old fabric, down 
it would come — fees, deanships, and comfortable 
roosts — in one common ruin. You remember that 
the classic paganism lived on as a ghost long after 
its soul had fled. But I must not talk like this to 
you. Miss Ruefold. I was forgetting the young 
woman and, for the moment, telling the coarse 
truth to a man.'' 

Don’t hide your opinion from a scruple for my 
feelings," replied Christina, with a loss of tone in 
her voice. “Yet there must be some here who 
would not agree with you," she continued. “It 
would be a pity if the picked men of the country, sur- 
rounded by the witnesses of an age of faith, should 
have given up all that the past held to be dear. It 
is a faith which built these towers and made it 
possible " 

Christina looked at her companion for help to 
close the sentence. 

“ I am not so grateful to the past as I ought to 
be," said Racer, laughing. “ Some believed, as you 
say, and gave their money to save their souls; 
others to get a good name, or because they could 
not carry the coin to another world. As to our be- 
ing the picked men of the country, my dear young 
lady, you do us too high an honor. We are 


202 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 


neither better nor worse than the average man. 
We come here to polish such tools as we possess, 
and if there is nothing better to be had in the 
world outside, we stay here to earn a living. Some 
of us are experts of particular kinds of learning ; 
but we are no bigger than if we had succeeded in 
literature, art, or commerce. In fact, the character 
of our work tends to make some of us mere sorters 
and index makers of ancient knowledge — journey- 
men in letters, if you like — for the men of genius to 
employ as hodmen in building their fabrics.'* 

Surely work like this is necessary to the 
thinkers ; they could not do without such men, and 
both ought to work together," said Christina. 

Racer put out his lip. ‘‘ So they ought ; but we 
are the bitterest critics of the men w^ho enlarge the 
range of thought or who make history." 

This is not a dusty place where no fresh life can 
show itself," continued the girl. To me it would 
appear always to be young. As soon as one set of 
boys leaves, another arrives. If I were a teacher," 
pursued Christina, with quite a matronly air, “ it 
would keep me hopeful to be ever meeting with the 
unspoiled beginnings of life." 

** It has a singular effect upon me," said Racer. 

The picture on the river, the crowds of youths 
about the town, remain unaltered from year to year. 
Until you come nearer, and separate the mass into 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 203 

items, you can hardly escape from the impression 
that it is the same picture, the same crowd, from 
season to season. There is also a quantity of human 
nature in our college fellows, dons, and the rest of 
us. The wives and children are governed by very 
unacademic considerations. The little jealousies, 
the college politics, which ruffle the minds of our 
principal people, are like the storms which agitate 
other teacups. Well, I must not blacken my neigh- 
bors, for I intend to arrange a meeting next October 
to introduce our interesting animal to the 'Varsity 
magnates. Some music, recitation, tea, and buns. 
It will be a sort of glorified penny reading. I will 
tell you in confidence," Racer went on, lowering his 
voice, that I am going to make an interesting 
experiment. I have been deep in hypnotism lately, 
and I mean to try the effect upon Bokrie ; he ought 
to be the very subject for it." 

But, Professor Racer, you want to call out the 
will power, not to suppress it." 

^‘That is just the thing I am going to explain; 
listen. Bokrie will remain up through the ' Long.' 
There will be plenty of leisure for me, and he will 
get on with his work at a fine rate ; the man has a 
marvelous memory. The suggestion to him will 
be: Wou have a mind of your own, will power 
which you can control. I give you a course of 
study, a rule of conduct. When you have sugges- 


204 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

tions to act in a contrary way, fight them with your 
will pow'er. I bid you put it into force in obedience 
to me/ You have the same process in preaching 
and other religious enterprises. The teacher refers 
to an unseen God, and suggests that his approval or 
displeasure are to be the motives for conduct : ‘ Thou 
God seest me.’ It matters not whether the power 
behind the screen exists or not ; the machinery has 
been set in motion by the idea, and will continue to 
work.” 

Christina looked at him sharply. Then you wish 
to put yourself in the place of God.” 

Just so,” answered Racer. I can do more for 
Bokrie at the present time than any far-away Deity 
who may stimulate the imagination of the senti- 
mental. The persons we really worship are those 
familiar to us. For their sake we consent to adopt 
a formula, or repeat a creed. The true priestess of 
Christianity is the mother who charms the baby lips 
into the first words of prayer.” 

The subject of this conversation had wandered far 
in front of his two friends, and was describing to 
Martha and Phyllis Racer his impression of evening 
worship at King’s Chapel. They had walked 
through the building, and were standing at the door, 
waiting for their companions to join them. Bokrie 
pleased the two ladies by his appreciation of the 
voices, and the determination he expressed to 


A AfODERAr STORY OF EVOLUTIOAT, 205 

master the intricacy of the English prayer-book. 
They were gratified when he told them that he 
could hardly repress the tears when he dropped to 
his knees with the congregation. But he spoiled the 
effect of the story by adding, dramatically, that he 
leaped to his feat, with an oath, when he was struck 
on the nape of the neck by something intensely hot, 
and found that he had been the victim of a gutter- 
ing candle. 

Racer stuck to his post throughout the vacation. 
He worked, walked, and talked with his pupil, until 
he believed he knew the inner heart of the man. 
Bokrie did not give an hour's trouble to his master. 
The influence which the kind treatment had given 
Racer over Bokrie paved the way for the first cau- 
tious experiments. Racer was delighted to find 
that not only could he wile away a slight ailment, 
and keep Bokrie to his work, but that his written 
instructions would control Bokrie when he was 
absent. After Bokrie had triumphantly passed an 
examination early in October, Racer did not doubt 
that he had completed the subjugation of the man. 
At the end of the month he arranged, in association 
with his friends, a conversazione at the Guildhall 
There was a loan exhibition of toys of science ; 
trophies from the Southern World ; spoils of the 
East ; paints and pictures ; light refreshments ; and 
a couple of detectives. 


2o6 the quickening OF CALIBAN: 

Two or three short essays on points of interest in 
the by-ways of science were given. Songs and 
music were introduced here and there, and at last 
it came to the turn of Racer to do his part. He 
gave a short account of the early forms of man ; 
discussed the demands of science for the lost steps 
in his upward progress ; repeated the story of Bokrie, 
and his up-bringing. He hinted that society and 
religion had both taken Bokrie in hand, and had 
failed. He reported the remarkable improvement 
Cambridge had wrought, and finally produced 
Bokrie on the platform to speak for himself. Racer 
was so confident of his success that for the previous 
fortnight he had relaxed the precautions which he 
had hitherto taken. He had seen very little of 
Bokrie, owing to constant occupation at the begin- 
ning of the new term, and had been satisfied to send 
him an occasional message about his work and to 
receive a few lines from him in return. He had met 
Bokrie the night before, and had arranged with him 
the part he was to take in the evening’s proceedings. 
There was nothing in Bokrie’s manner to suggest 
rebellion, but Racer had no time for close attention. 
Had the professor known all that had happened in 
the interval he would never have permitted Bokrie 
to appear on the platform. A man who had met 
Bokrie in the summer term, picked him up for 
amusement on his arrival in Cambridge a fortnight 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 207 

before the meeting. The new friend intended to go 
in for medicine, and was toying with the romance 
of his profession before he buckled to its reality. 
He had just come from Paris, where he had been 
shown some experimets in hypnotism, and he was 
anxious to try his own power. A chance remark 
dropped by Bokrie suggested to him what Racer 
had been doing, and he determined to put his 
knowledge to the test. He succeeded so well that 
he repeated the effect, and delighted a select circle 
of friends with the buffoonery he got out of his 
subject. 

He received a ticket for Racer's evening, and 
when he saw Bokrie mount the platform, he moved 
up close to the front line of the audience. All went 
well at the beginning. Bokrie quoted various pas- 
sages from English authors correctly, and was 
about to finish with a recitation from Tennyson, 
when the spirit of mischief prompted the man in 
front to interpose. He fixed his eyes upon the 
orator and Bokrie stopped. The stare of the 
operator, and a movement of his lips, interpreted 
the unuttered command, and suggested a perform- 
ance which Bokrie had given a day or two before. 
In a moment the English faces, the lights, were all 
blurred into a cloud, and Bokrie had returned to his 
native forest. He was shouting to his kindred in 
the uncouth tongue which he had utterly forgotten. 


2o8 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

and was preparing to lead the savage hunt. Racer 
leaped on the platform and spoke in his ear, but 
Bokrie could not recognize him. The performer 
jumped down among the audience, and as they 
parted for him he ran through the lane, passed the 
doors, and, finding himself in the open air, suddenly 
sobered. 

He was penitent enough when Racer called later 
on, but confused as to his exact offense. Racer 
rated him soundly, but shielded him from further 
inquiry and the matter was hushed up. Racer 
discovered how the mischief had been started, and 
the miscarriage of his plan confirmed the truth of 
his theory. He left Bokrie to his own devices for 
a short time, under the belief that the man would 
find the loss of his friendship a severe penalty. 
Unfortunately, the desertion produced a result 
which might have been foreseen. Abandoned, as 
he thought, by his one strong friend, Bokrie fell into 
the deepest depression. Some of the men looked 
him up, and, out of compassion for his forlorn lot, 
they drew him into a round of gayety. At a dinner- 
party of a roystering character the plot was hatched 
which brought Bokrie's university career to a con- 
clusion. It was drawing near to the memorable 
5th of November, and although Town and Gown 
riots had faded into a tradition, and an explosive 
entertainment had ceased to be in undergraduate 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 209 

form, the opportunity for a piece of elaborate fun 
could not be passed over by these daring spirits. 
Bokrie was urged to play the principal part. He 
could not appreciate the humor of it, for it seemed 
to him only a dreary rehearsal in the open air of 
the performances which had sickened him ; but he 
craved for the approbation of his comrades, as he 
felt he was under the displeasure of the higher 
powers. 

When the afternoon had dwindled into twilight, 
a procession appeared on the King's Parade, which 
created much stir. A large car, drawn by a team of 
mules, came slowly along ; a gorilla, dressed as a 
footman, walking with each pair. At the four cor- 
ners of the car were different specimens of the ape 
tribe. From each one stretched a chain to the 
figure throned in the center of the car. This was 
Bokrie, looking gigantic on his elevated seat. He 
was dressed as an African chief, and behind him 
stood two negroes, carrying a banner with the 
inscription : 

THE LINK NO LONGER MISSING. 




The Mutual Friend of Man and his Country Cousin, 


A mob quickly gathered, and as the leaders of the 
team were turning into the market place, their pass- 
age was barred by the police. Two proctors and 
their bull-dogs " hurried up, for in spite of the 


210 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

property man and the burnt cork, it was clear to the 
eye of experience that most of the company were 
members of the University. The smaller monkeys 
were lads hired for the occasion, and these coiled up 
their tails and took to their heels. The passengers 
on the car were disinclined to give the names of 
their colleges, and the united effort of the two sets 
of authority only succeeded in removing the mules 
from the conveyance. An attempt to storm the 
castle was met by a fusillade of squibs and crackers. 
The intermediate link sent up a rocket, and the two 
black footmen discharged Roman candles around 
their illustrious chief. This could not go on for 
long, and a last charge of the police and their allies 
disheartened the defenders and scattered them in all 
directions. Bokrie was left behind in the grip of 
two policemen, and when he realized that the play 
was finished, he asked to go home. There was a 
discussion between the officials about him, and not 
understanding the delay, he shook himself free and 
started to run. They gave chase, but he was too 
quick for them, and without giving thought to any 
other consideration than the bare idea of an escape, 
he made for the open country. They followed him 
as far as the lamps extended, and then gave up the 
pursuit, glad to be relieved from a disagreeable 
duty. 

During that night a strange figure, dressed like a 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


2II 


savage, blackened and travel-stained, darted through 
many a lonely village. He took rest and food 
on the road, for he had money; but when he 
approached London he changed his clothing at a 
wayside cottage. On the following afternoon he 
was begging for work at the Thames side wharves. 


XV. 


The mountain of the Beatitudes is ringed about with the deep 
cleft of humiliation, and through this depression the lowly ones ascend 
to their triumph. 

Christina heard that Bokrie had disappeared, 
for Racer sent to her a local journal containing a 
graphic account of the occurrence. It was entitled 

The Apotheosis of the Man-Ape, and almost sug- 
gested that Bokrie had gone up with his own rocket, 
but had not come down with the stick. She 
expected that he would reappear after a short con- 
cealment, as it had happened with previous esca- 
pades. When a week had passed and he had not 
presented himself, she feared some worse evil, and 
wrote to Racer for advice. The professor was out 
of temper, and replied briefly that he hoped the man 
would come to grief, for he had become a nuisance 
to them all. Christina remonstrated, and reminded 
him that he had made his own terms, and as he had 
failed with his system, it was now her turn. Racer 
assented to the reasoning, and came up to London 
to give effect to the conclusion. He went the 
round of the hospitals and the workhouses, told the 
police, and inserted an advertisement to the effect 
that : If B., who left Cambridge suddenly, without 


212 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


213 


his luggage, would communicate with A. and C., 
solicitors, he would hear of something much to 
his advantage/' But the bait was not taken, and 
Bokrie's fate threatened to be a London mystery. 

Then Christina put the case into Lucy's hands, 
and the Zulu girl took the list of music halls which 
Racer had given, and made her inquiries at back 
doors, and among servants and work-people. She 
walked about the streets adjoining the Thames 
and the docks for several days, speaking to every 
foreigner, at the risk of an insulting word or a 
threatened blow. She was losing heart, and had 
been making unfavorable comparisons between the 
native black man and the coarser native of London- 
by-Thames, when she lighted upon the lost piece of 
silver. She had made her way from the Tower 
into Eastcheap, and, looking down one of the steep 
lanes which plunge headlong toward Billingsgate, 
she caught sight of a string of porters, like ants, fol- 
lowing one another with boxes and barrels on their 
heads. She turned into the lane and walked to the 
bottom. The groups of men standing at the 
corners and before the taverns were mostly fish 
porters who were enjoying a lazy smoke and lounge 
before going off to work. The activity of the fruit 
porters gave that zest to their recreation which is a 
part of the enjoyment of leisure. The fruit porters 
were steadily at their task, streaming across Lower 


214 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

Thames Street from the wharves on the one side to 
the warehouses on the other. The roadway was 
blocked with vans and barrows, so that the cross- 
current was sometimes twisted or checked. Lucy 
stood for a few minutes watching the files of loaded 
and returning laborers, and her presence soon 
attracted the loafers, whose chaff of their toiling 
comrades was beginning to lose its freshness. 

Finding that the customary clicking and whist- 
ling did not attract the girl's atttention, one of the 
group advanced to Lucy, and in mock courtesy, 
taking off his greasy cap, said : My dear, will you 
give us a little bit of a song?" The girl turned 
away indignantly. I ain’t your favorite nigger, I 
know," continued the man ; but I can give you 
the step, my black-eyed Susan," and he caught the 
girl by the shoulders and danced round with her, in 
spite of her cries and struggles, to the roars of 
laughter of his companions. This might have con- 
tinued for some minutes, had not a fist descended 
upon the man’s head, driving his cap over his eyes 
and stunning him. When he had staggered against 
the wall and recovered his sight and sense, he 
glared at his assailant and rolled up his sleeves, for 
words failed him, and he wanted his breath for 
action. For a moment he checked himself, and he 
did not advance to the battle. Before him stood a 
giant fruit porter, with the left hand raised to steady 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 215 

the box upon his bent back, but with the other arm, 
a long, dangerous weapon, free. The fish porter felt 
his courage slipping, but, in the presence of the 
familiar crowd, determined to face the enemy. 

Come along, you lanky bones ! he shouted ; 
'' come and show fight for your missus ! 

Down went the box to the pavement, the padded 
cushion was dropped from the head, and Bokrie drew 
up to his full height. The fish porter made for him, 
and pounded gallantly for a second or two ; but 
Bokrie gripped him, thrust him back at arm's length, 
and with one single twist flung him into the road- 
way. The crowd got angry and shouted : 

’Taint fair fighting, he’s a foreign Johnnie ; 
why don’t he let drive like an English ’un ? ” and 
so on. 

The defeated man, to do him justice, was prepared 
to come on again and take his thrashing ; but the 
mob grew threatening, and Lucy, putting her hand 
on Bokrie’s arm, implored him to come away with 
her. He picked up his load, and she walked by his 
side to the warehouse. She had to argue with 
him for some time before she persuaded him to 
leave his work for tfie day and to come home. 

I dare not see Miss Ruefold. What will she say 
to me, what does she think of me ? ” he repeated 
again and again. He told Lucy that he meant to 
hide from his friends in London forever. 


2i6 the quickening OF CALIBAN : 

Although there was difficulty in getting him into 
the house, he was quiet enough in the presence of 
Christina. He kept his eyes away from her, and 
listened to her chiding with a meek and melancholy 
countenance. 

I told you I could not make any real progress 
under the professor,*’ he said, at last finding a voice. 

But it is worse than that. I have lost your favor 
too ; you will never be kind to me again. I shall go 
away and never see you, except in the beautiful 
church and in dreams. When the evening star comes 
into the clear sky, I shall say : ' There, there is my 

lady. She is above me, I shall never reach her ; the 
way is too steep. I have fallen to the earth, on 
which I must always crawl ; her heavens are out of 
my reach.’ ” 

‘‘ Indeed no, Bokrie ; you can come up to me,” re- 
plied Christina, with a heart full of pity. You don’t 
need learning, or fine manners, to be a good man ; 
but you must believe — must think. O Bokrie, 
Bokrie ! ” cried the girl, breaking away incoher- 
ently, we have done our best for you, one after 
another, and yet here you are, none the better for it 
all. Would that the God of man and brute would 
take the task out of our hands! ” 

‘‘ Will you say a prayer for me, Miss Ruefold ? 
Your God won’t listen to me; I am not his sort; 
he would not have anything to say to me,” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


217 


Of course I will pray for you. What are you 
going to do ? ” 

I shall go to my work to-morrow ; but I will 
come away at the dinner hour. Miss Ruefold, will 
you do me a kindness ? 

What is it?" 

Let me go for a walk with you to-morrow after- 
noon. I want to walk beside you as I used to do. 
I will act properly like other persons, and I have a 
new suit of clothes, bought at the great plate glass 
tailor’s." 

^‘You have some money left?" asked Christina, 
in surprise. 

I hid some before I left London. I was afraid 
to take it to Cambridge, lest I might spend it like a 
fool or lose it. When that has gone, the professor 
has still more." 

Where are we to walk ? " inquired Christina. 

In the crowded street — anywhere, so that I may 
feel you near me. If your God ever finds me, it 
will be through luck, when I am by your side." 


XVI. 


Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 

On the next afternoon Christina and Bokric 
moved about the muddy and gloomy city for an 
hour or more. Nobody looked at them or cared 
for them. In Cornhill and Lombard Street the 
crowd was better clothed and the asphalt was 
cleaner. In other respects it was the same surging 
river of humanity — whether it poured through Aid- 
gate or rolled out at the Temple. If a blocked 
crossing checked it for a minute, it grew thick and 
clamorous. At the converging of streets there were 
confused eddies. The narrow courts and alleys 
poured light streams into the main currents, or 
relieved the swollen torrents by sucking in some of 
their superabundance. It was impossible to talk. 
There was only an opportunity of throwing a word 
from one to the other through the noise made by 
this turbulent energy. It was yet early in the after- 
noon, but the day — a gray ghost — was ready to 
retreat from the December sky, as if conscious of 
its failure. The shops were showing lights with 
an air of impatience at the pretense of daylight, 

8I8 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


219 


anxious to be done with the farce, and to settle 
into the honest darkness of the long night. 

Christina was tired, not with the distance they 
had walked, but through the fatigued attention. 
She proposed to turn aside into a churchyard which 
had been converted into a prim garden. Away 
from the tall buildings, they were surprised to see 
how much daylight yet lingered. The path ran 
through the graveyard, cutting it into two unequal 
portions. It was a long lane fenced with a railing, 
and it connected two great thoroughfares. Thin, 
straggling lines of people were always threading it ; 
but in the middle of the passage there were a couple 
of wooden benches, and these made a quiet resting- 
place. The roar of the great arteries fell lower, and 
the huge Georgian church behind rose like a pro- 
tector of the wayfarer. Its unconscious ugliness on 
so large a scale almost reached the sublime. 

They sat down, and for a minute or two there was 
nothing said. Beyond the railing in front of them 
there was a stretch of turf, broken by circular beds 
raked clean and neat, and by flat slabs of stone. A 
small fountain played in the middle of the ground, 
and, when the feet on the pavement were not too 
frequent, they caught its faint splash. On the rim 
of the small basin two pigeons were gracefully 
poised. The sparrows were dodging about in 
search of a supper, and claimed part of the food 


220 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 


which had been thrown to the pigeons. A high 
wall rose on the further side, pierced by the lighted 
windows of business premises. The vacant spaces 
of wall carried the names of the traders, and a row of 
gravestones — like a line of irregular teeth — was fixed 
against the basement, and set out in faded letters 
the names and virtues of departed citizens. Above 
might be read : Calway & Gypsum, Printers and 
Lithographers Smart, Marlrigg & Company, 
Ltd., Sole Agents for the Mammoth Hide Boots” ; 
and below, little cherub heads fluttered over the 
worn-out inscriptions, and '' Here lyeth,” '' of this 
Parish,” a text of Scripture, or a verse of a hymn 
might be picked out by careful eyes. 

Bokrie was silent, but he looked satisfied. It was 
enough for him to be for a couple of hours in the 
company of the woman he worshiped ; the future 
must take care of itself. 

You know that we are sitting above the graves 
of those who died long ago,” began Christina, after 
an interval of silence. 

Yes, Miss Ruefold ; but it does not hurt theitC; 
they don’t know it, and never will. They cannot 
have enjoyed their lives in this misty city. Better 
for them to have lived out their time in our bright 
Africa.” 

So we think ; but God can make up for all loss 
suffered in this world. I wonder whether they care 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION, 


221 


about the garden and the birds ; the shifting of the 
headstones; the general covering-up and forgetful- 
ness.’* 

You have a long life before you, Miss Ruefold ; 
but the dust cart will soon call for me ; and then, 
what does it matter? it is all over. I should not 
trouble much about the dust bin ’for myself.” 

There is something over and above ! ” exclaimed 
Christina. I know it, I feel it. It comes to me in 
broad daylight ; in the dead of the night. The 
beyond, the far away, is all about me ; I can touch 
it, and am satisfied.” 

A workman with a bag of tools sat on the next 
seat, and his neighborhood put a stop to conversa- 
tion. Bokrie continued watching the passengers ; 
Christina was deep in thought. The workman 
stared about in an absent, gloomy way ; he was too 
jaded to care for sentiment. Presently he got up 
and stood with his hand on the railing, looking at 
the fountain and the pigeons. He searched in his 
pocket and brought out a piece of bread — a rem- 
Ant from a meal. He leaned forward and offered 
the bread on the palm of his hand. A pigeon, 
foraging on the ground with ruffling jerks of its soft 
neck, caught sight of him, considered the offer for a 
second with its dainty little head on one side, and 
then rose into the air. Twice it circled round the 
man with the courage of familiarity; yet an invisi- 


222 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 


ble line marked the limit of prudence, and it would 
not come near enough. The man held up the bread 
higher, and the bird flew back to its own ground, 
thinking the prize unequal to the risk. Then the 
man slung his tools over his shoulder, and moved 
away. 

Do you see that ? exclaimed Christina. Jesus 
Christ may have appeared to his neighbors and 
friends just like that man. He did a good day’s 
work, felt tired, and went home to his supper. He 
thought when he was a boy that he was intended to 
do great things ; but he grew up in his plain home 
to be the same as the rest of his class. No voice 
spoke to him, although he listened for it often, until 
his heart chilled with doubt, and he grew accus- 
tomed to the common round of life. One day the 
change came ; the Voice called him ; a Dove de- 
scended from above and alighted upon him. It 
nestled unseen in his heart. It never left him. 
There was no need to coax it to come to him. For- 
ever after he knew he was the Son of God.” 

Dear little pigeons ! I should like to carry olfe 
in my coat. I would sing gently to it ; I would be 
so kind,” said Bokrie. 

You may have your wish, Bokrie, if you look to 
God. You have mind and body, thought and feel- 
ing. The cage is ready for the gift of the spirit — 
pray for it.” 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 223 

‘‘ No use, no use,’' he replied, shaking his head. 

I am not like your Jesus ; I was not born a son of 
God ; I am only a big beast without a spirit.” 

Go ask for it, go,” she said, moved by a sudden 
impluse, which she hardly realized. She put her 
hand upon his arm and pushed him slightly. He 
stood up and staggered as he moved slowly away, as 
if a blow had been given him. She watched him. 
He steadied himself at the railing and moved on. 
Then the night appeared suddenly to close in upon 
him, and to swallow him up. In a few moments the 
last pale threads of daylight had vanished. He had 
gone from sight, but she dared not stir. There was 
a sense of some change which aroused and alarmed 
her. People were still passing ; the lights were all 
about ; the broad hum of the streets sang to her ; a 
piano-organ struck up a lively air for dancing — she 
could not feel alone, and yet she felt herself to be 
the lonely spectator of a drama. She waited ten 
minutes or more, and then suddenly Bokrie stood 
before her. 

“ I have found it,” he said, and she got up 
directly and looked into his face. He held his head 
erect ; his eyes were bright ; there was something 
new and strange in his expression. She waited for 
him to go on ; her heart was beating. 

‘‘ I hear music,” he said, looking about. 

It is only a piano-organ,” whispered Christina. 


224 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

There is music everywhere/' he continued. I 
thought the world was full of jarring noise, but all 
works for harmony, and I can hear the sound." 

Where have you been ? " she mustered courage 
to ask. 

Only a few steps, close to that archway. I 
leaned against the wall and trembled. I heard the 
voice of God ; it went through me like a flame, and 
the spirit entered after. It remains with me — I am 
a man." 

They walked slowly side by side, and found 
themselves in the busy street again. Christina 
turned for home, and he kept near to her — not as 
the faithful dog, but as the one who cared for her 
with his greater knowledge and strength. He 
guarded her across the streets and directed rather 
than followed. No word passed between them until 
the doorstep was reached, when Christina bade him 
good-by, and said, ‘‘You have found the light at 
last, Bokrie ; give thanks for it." 

“ It is due to you, Christina Ruefold," he 
answered. “ I followed you to the gate of heaven." 

He left, and she watched him down the street. 
Shabby in dress, ungainly in carriage, lanky in 
form — all these he was still ; but the casket was 
alive with a new treasure. 

He could not yet go back to his lodging; he 
could not s^eep that night. He was afraid of 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 225 

sleeping at all, lest he should awake to the old 
state and find his full liberty only a dream. He 
satisfied his hunger and thirst at a tea shop, and 
then started for a long trudge through the London 
streets. First of all he pushed westward, through 
the Strand, until he found himself at the Happy 
Valley.’’ He went round to the door which was 
used for the stage people, and thought of his own 
entries and exits. He had only to ask for an 
engagement, and he would be given once more a 
place on the bill. He felt a strong inclination to 
apply; to go through the old performance, and 
then at the lecture time, when the showman was de- 
scribing his origin, to break in with the shout, 
God has called me by name ; I am a man ! ” 
Young women drove up in their broughams ; 
seedy workmen slipped in and out ; well-dressed 
loafers hung about the corner, but nobody recog- 
nized Bokrie. When the evening performance be- 
gan he entered the building and paid for a seat among 
the audience. It was a tedious matter to him, but 
he sat out its whole length, and wondered at the 
patience of those who had tasted better things. 
Then he got a meal, and turned into the heart 
the West in the hour before midnight. He found 
himself in the rough crowd he knew too well. 
Gaudy women attended by their satellites plied their 
trade. Respectable people were pushing through 


226 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

the throng on their homeward way. Delicate 
girls, carefully shielded from contact with their 
fallen sisters, were led daintily to their carriages. 
There were flashing lights, shouts of men and boys, 
the cackle of tipsy laughter, an interlacing of all 
sorts and conditions of men and women, and here 
and there a few indulgent policemen. He was in 
the center of Christendom, but he thought of the 
orgies of African paganism. Here was offered 
nightly sacrifice to the bestial powers. 

After the boom of midnight from the bell at West- 
minster, he made his way to the Embankment. 
The full stream, patched with dark masses and dotted 
with lights, ran, like the mystery of life, between the 
sleeping shores. The sky had cleared, and the scat- 
tered points of light overhead formed to him strange 
characters which might solve the enigma if only man 
could find a key to the writing. So in past ages man 
had striven to snatch the secret of the future from 
those stars. There stood the monolith — a stranger 
in a strange land — which bore the hieroglyphics of a 
language once unknown. It had given up its secret, 
and perhaps along the shining page of the heavens 
the fingers of a man’s hand might presently spell the 
message. 

Bokrie withdrew his thoughts from this wider 
range, and settled them upon the slouching way- 
farers, and the sleeping figures, clasping their rags in 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION.. 227 

their cold dreams. The command of thought, the 
power of sustained attention, was to him a happy 
novelty. He had a few shillings left in his pocket, 
and he divided the money among the worst looking 
of the outcasts. Nature frowned upon them ; Society 
would not own them ; it seemed to him that they 
belonged only to God. If the goodness had de- 
scended upon him, surely it would gather these 
miserable creatures into its ample folds ? Here and 
hereafter he v/as kin to them, and as he touched the 
Divine with one hand, with the other he found his 
brotherhood with man. 

He grew tired at last and dropped into a seat on 
one of the bridges. He fell asleep and dreamed that 
he walked with Christina in the African forest-land. 
They were never to be parted again ; but the love 
they bore to each other found its gratification in the 
blessings they carried from village to village. As 
they passed through the land the war-shout melted 
into the Christian hymn. He must have slept for a 
long time, for when he was roused he felt cramped 
and cold, and the early carts were rattling over the 
bridge. A policeman flashed his lamp upon him, 
and shook him roughly. Get out of this, young 
fellow, get to your bed ; you will be sober by noon,’* 
said the officer. Bokrie felt the animal wake in him ; 
the new spiritual force was off guard. The blood 
mounted to his brain ; his fingers tingled. In 


2 28 the quickening of CALIBAN : 

another moment rage would have mastered him, and 
the habit of the old brute life asserted itself. Just 
then he saw the picture of the graveyard garden out- 
lined on the dark background. Christina looked at 
him in wonder; he felt the fire of the Voice within 
him. By the first great effort of self-control, he 
seized the reins of speech and motion, and they 
obeyed him. Without a word he returned to the 
Embankment and followed the course of the river. 

The new day of labor had broken upon the city, 
although the sky was hardly gray. Bokrie left the 
river at Blackfriars, but returned to it once more at 
London Bridge. He leaned upon the parapet and 
looked eastward across the confused masts and 
spires. Behind the haze of mist and smoke there 
grew a patch of orange, a spatter of dull brown-red, 
and he knew that the sun was coming. He exulted 
at the thought that the sun which had left him a 
brute would find him a man. No backward sweep 
of his nature had deprived him of his gift. He 
belonged to the great company of the heavens ; he 
would live on in the infinite reaches of time and 
space. He lifted his cap to the Great Unseen, and 
then he remembered Christina. Why should not he 
think of her as the highest of earth to him? He 
had been saved by her compassion from himself. 
She had led him by the silken cord of her pity to 
the doors of eternal life. There she stood — a pure 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 229 

priestess — and made intercession for him. Her 
prayer had swung the heavy hinge of gold, and as 
the glory broke upon him he learned the prayer for 
himself. 

Do not children climb up to God across their 
mothers' breasts and fathers' knees? Has not the 
Deity made human love the stepping-stone by which 
we reach to his Fatherhood ? Did he not take the 
same way when he came down to us in the person 
of his Well-beloved ? These were the thoughts 
which rose in Bokrie's mind as he turned back to his 
lodging. He would wait until the day was fully 
awake before he presented himself to the woman he 
loved. She should have the first offering of his new 
powers, and under her advice he would take the first 
steps on the opened road. There was no remorse 
for sin to mingle its bitterness with his rejoicing. 
The things of which he was now ashamed he had 
done in time past ignorantly. But the dread of a 
return to them made him shudder. He committed 
himself to the Highest Strength, and felt at peace. 


XVII. 


He , — The love of to-day is a warm and living thing ; it is sufficient 
for the present. After death another sort if you like. 

She. — No, no. The love I desire must live beyond the shadows. 
Else I will take the hands invisible, and share, even now, in the pas- 
sion which shall endure for ever. 

When do you say Christina means to marry 
him?'* asked Mrs. Fallowfett, as the family had a 
few moments together in the week before Christ- 
mas. 

She does not intend to marry him," answered 
her daughter. He is to leave for his native part of 
Africa immediately, and she will return to Union 
Vineyard. I think she wants to start some further 
scheme ; but I don't suppose they will work to- 
gether." 

‘‘ Worse and worse," said Mrs. Fallowfett. I 
thought that the girl would never come to good, in 
spite of the fuss made about her. It was only a 
flash in the pan ; my first opinion was right." 

'Wou are both wrongly informed," put in 
Gregory Fallowfett, throwing aside his newspaper. 
‘^Forest Bokrie is sane enough at the present time. 
I don't pretend to understand all that has happened, 
but Christina has managed to cure him, and there is 


230 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


231 


nothing else between them. But this Bokrie has 
played the game a little too long, and now he has 
to pay up the stakes. His lungs are hopelessly out 
of order — so the doctors say — and he can’t look for- 
ward to a long life. They say that he may hang 
on a bit in Africa — that is, on the high, dry plateau. 
If he goes to that Union Vineyard, he will simply 
stumble into his grave.” 

She is going there,” said Vesper. 

Yes, I know,” her father replied. She is better 
with her uncle, teaching the blacks. That is the 
mischief of concentrating all your life on one object. 
If the object grows too good, or dies, you are left 
stranded. Now, a girl might take up art, and there 
would be no end to it ; or society, which renews its 
youth every season. She might even discard one 
lover and be on with a new one. Yes, I see that I 
am on dangerous ground. What is the matter, 
Vesper? ” 

Nothing at all. Of course you know that Vin- 
cent Gracebroke is keeping Forest Bokrie company 
in the train of Christina ? ” 

Surely he has not been ordered by his doctor to 
Africa?” exclaimed Mrs. Fallowfett. 

I don’t think she wants him,” answered Vesper ; 
in fact, I am sure she does not. But she has a 
passion for reforming men. She keeps them dang- 
ling after her with the idea that she is going to save 


232 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

their souls. They like it until the crisis comes ; 
then she is indignant at being misunderstood, and 
drives them away.'' 

‘‘You will not find Vesper give way to such trashy 
nonsense," said Mrs. Fallowfett. “She will never 
give you one-half the trouble which your ward has 
brought upon you. Wash your hands of the whole 
business, and hand Christina over to her uncle." 

“ I am afraid, my dear, that I have anticipated 
your good advice. I pay Christina her quarterly 
income, enclose a few lines of counsel with the 
check — just as some people send a tract with an 
ordinary business letter — and there it comes to an 
end. But Vesper does not even disturb my diges- 
tion with the shadow of trouble. She has permitted 
that Gracebroke to slip away without the embar- 
rassment of an interview. Yes, I know that there 
is someone else, and don't mind so long as I can 
distinguish between number one and two, and don't 
exchange their Christain names awkwardly." 

Vesper listened demurely, as if the sacrifice of 
both numbers would not have been a difficult matter 
to her, and that she could gently produce a third 
name after a reputable delay. Gregory Fallowfett 
admired Christina, but took her to be a splendid 
fool ; yet her very folly seemed to be a corrective of 
the hard world, which tainted with its sordid motives 
the finer texture of womanhood. He saw clearly 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


233 


enough that the emotional nature of womankind 
would make for itself a more dangerous outlet if 
denied the luxury of religious expression. 

The New Year came, and with it Christina com- 
pleted her arrangements for leaving England. There 
was nothing to keep her, no fresh enterprise to en- 
gage her thought ; no clinging hands of love to 
detain her. Bokrie required her no longer ; he 
almost promised to be her teacher as well as her 
protector. There was an ache at her heart mingled 
with the satisfaction. The situation would soon be- 
come a strained one. She could not keep him about 
her under the altered conditions. It was with a 
sense of relief that she heard the imperative medical 
order for him to get away from England. She did 
not understand its gravity, or realize that it meant a 
sentence of death. She wished Bokrie to start first, 
and she would follow in a little while. The Fallow- 
fetts did not want her ; the professor had gone back 
to his work in disgust with all experiments in refor- 
mation, and she was only in the way of his two 
maiden sisters. She might join a sisterhood ; but 
Africa beckoned to her. The time soon shortened 
for Bokrie. His few friends almost pushed him on 
shipboard, urging him to escape before the east wind 
of the English spring swept over the threshold, and 
claimed its victims. 

Gracebroke had not seen her since the brief inter- 


234 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

view in Hyde Park, but he had spent an afternoon 
more than once in the East End. Of course he 
could easily have found her had he tried to do so, 
but he shrank from a call, yet was prepared to risk a 
chance encounter. The influence of the girl could 
sometimes be shut out of his life for days together. 
A bout of serious work, a round of excitement, wine, 
and light women, would keep the face of Christina 
away, or at worst would only permit a gentle specter 
to haunt him. When, however, an interval of rest 
or reflection befell him, the image of the girl and 
the fascination of her pure enthusiasm were restored. 
Taken at his own standard, his life was pitifully 
meager. He had money enough, but ambition was 
dying down, and he found his appetite for repeated 
doses of rank pleasure a failing capacity. He was 
not animal enough to limit his enjoyment to the 
animal kingdom. He had ignored the spiritual ele- 
ment, and doubted whether he had not made a blun- 
der. Pure intellectual pleasure he found was hardly 
a possibility without a consideration for the spiritual. 
The intellectual would not work amiably with the 
brute animal, and was pining for a better mate. 
Again, by accident, he came across Christina. She 
had been with Lucy on an excursion to one of the 
show spots on the river, and the two were passing 
through Charing Cross station. A man raised his 
hat, approached them, and Christina saw that the 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 235 

interview must be given. Telling Lucy to go to the 
waiting room, she held out her hand to Gracebroke 
and remarked that it was a greeting and a farewell 
in one, for she was returning to Africa. He was 
resolved not to lose her directly, and, after touch- 
ing her fingers, he walked slowly across the open 
pavement, and she unconsciously fell into his 
pace. 

I am leaving also,*' he said, this very night. 
Spare me a minute or two ; I have plenty of time 
for the train. I am going first to Paris, then to 
Vienna, perhaps to Constantinople. It may be 
south of the Alps, Florence, Naples, Egypt, Tunis, 
Heaven only knows. You have ruined me for good 
and all, Christina. If you are going to Africa, I 
must touch the soil of the same continent, even if 
you are thousands of miles away. Tunis, Egypt, 
let it be there." 

There was passion in his voice, although he kept 
it at the well bred pitch of conversation. A porter 
came up at that moment with the rugs and bags. 

The boat-train — get me a smoking compartment 
to myself if you can," Gracebroke answered. Chris- 
tina had secured a moment for gathering together 
her forces. 

‘‘ I have not done you the least harm," she 
said. 

“ Why do you not leave me alone ? " he asked. I 


236 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN : 

should have married Vesper, and have done all that 
I am capable of doing. Why did you thrust your 
ideal upon me — the beauty of your moral woman- 
hood ? I was contented enough before I met you, 
both with myself and with others. You have no 
right to abandon me to my own wretchedness.” 

Up came the porter again. Did you tell me, 
sir, to register your luggage through to Paris ? ” 

Gracebroke turned upon him savagely : ** Regis- 

ter it to hell it you like — to Paris, of course.” 

^‘You are most unjust,” replied Christina. '‘I 
never interfered between you and Vesper ; never 
gave you the least encouragement.” In her indig- 
nation she had stopped to deliver her defense. An 
engine screamed like the spirit of discord ; a tele- 
graph bell beat ; people scurried past, jostling them 
in their hurry for the trains. 

Hear me, Christina; it is for the last time,” he 
exclaimed ; ‘‘ I have only ten minutes. Bokrie has 
gone; now take me in hand. You don’t love me, 
I can quite understand, but you can raise me if you 
will. Talk to me ; let me visit you sometimes ; your 
atmosphere will give me a sense of home. I know 
I am a difficult subject ; it will take a long time, but 
I shall get self-respect in the place of my lost self- 
esteem.” 

‘‘ You must know that is out of the question, 
Mr. Gracebrcke. I am going to Africa to join my 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


237 


uncle at Union Vineyard/’ The next moment 
she regretted the statement, for he caught at it 
eagerly. 

“ Then I will go there also. Union Vineyard, the 
station your father managed — your birthplace — how 
do you reach it ? It will do me far more good than 
Egypt or Tunis.” 

Your presence will be painful, and the situation 
will become an impossible one.” 

Why will you not take me for a husband, Chris- 
tina ? That position at any rate would not be an 
impossible one. No man would be bound to a 
woman by closer ties ; the salvation of his soul, the 
fulfilling of his heart’s desire. Nothing should be 
lost to you, and surely something would be gained. 
You are made for sweeter things than even spiritual 
emotion — the tenderness of home, the love of chil- 
dren.” 

At first the appeal went to her heart ; he had 
done his work fairly well. The noise of the 
station dulled, and for a few seconds she saw a pic- 
ture — a warm fireside, the children at her feet, the 
baby in her arms. It was only a vision which flashed 
before her, and then she was herself again. She 
woke to see the flame which had kindled in the eyes 
of Gracebroke at the momentary hesitation she had 
shown. 

No, no,” she hastened to say. You would 


238 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

grow tired ; the reformer would lose her charm for 
you ; we are better apart. I cannot think of it/* 
One last word/' he whispered, as the porter 
returned, anxious for his shilling, to warn Grace- 
broke of the train about to start — if I cannot find 
peace anywhere, may I see you once again ? " 

Christina did not give him an answer, for in his 
farewell he had drawn her by the hand he would not 
release up to the barrier ; but she did not resent the 
last pressure he gave. Then he passed out of sight. 
The signal lights were obscured for a moment by a 
gusty cloud of steam, and the train had started for 
the coast. 

Lucy had been amusing herself meanwhile with 
the brilliant advertisements of seaside towns and the 
humors of the travelers. It occurred to her that 
she would not object to a lover on her own account. 
He must be something better than a negro — a fine 
fellow with a good position in the merchant service, 
colored, of course, to the shade she admired. She 
returned one day to the house of the Racer ladies 
with a gallant specimen captured in action near the 
docks, after a short engagement. He had certainly 
too much negro blood to satisfy her, but he was 
unexceptionable in his language, smoked a real 
cigar, and had exchanged handkerchiefs with the 
victrix as a sign of submission. Lucy was inno- 
cently proud of her conquest, and brought him into 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 


239 


port with the utmost good faith. But Martha 
heard a man's voice in the kitchen, and Phyllis, 
greatly daring, descended the stairs to encounter 
the enemy. Lucy was astonished at the distress 
of the two ladies, unconscious of having trans- 
gressed the bounds of propriety. 

Christina, on her return home, could hardly re- 
strain a smile when she discovered the cause for 
the tremor which had shaken the household ; but 
she explained to Lucy that such freedom was not 
suited to London. The girl was anxious to see 
more of her admirer, and on the following day her 
mistress sent to the proper people for a character. 
The gay deceiver had at least three reputed wives 
in different ports, and this brought Lucy's romance 
to an end. But the household did not recover its 
former peace. Martha and Phyllis both agreed in 
regarding the Zulu girl with suspicion. Then 
Martha lost a brooch and accused poor Lucy of the 
theft. Phyllis could not offer any evidence, but ex^ 
pressed an opinion that jackdaws and black people 
were equally tempted to snap up trinkets, as they 
were both fond of bright objects. After a few days 
of tears and protestations the brooch was found in 
a drawer which Martha had overlooked. Christina 
felt it was full time to go, and she only waited for 
the professor from Cambridge, to bid him farewell, 
When he arrived he took Christina to task for leav- 


240 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

ing England. If she must go, then let her return 
as soon as possible, and settle in South Kensington 
for a steady course of art or science. Bokrie — start 
the fellow into the interior ; let him carry his music 
hall songs, or his hymns, whichever he preferred, to 
the benighted inhabitants of the forest land, and be- 
come a prophet in his own country. 

I am going back to my old work, as I have told 
you,’' said Christina coldly to all this. 

I don’t want to be rude. Miss Ruefold ; but, my 
good young lady, how can you talk about old work? 
At your age everything is new ; you have not a past 
in the ordinary sense of the word. I don’t want 
you to bury yourself in the African desert for the 
next ten years.” 

Thank you ; but Bokrie requires me for a short 
time longer.” 

I thought you had mended him in your 
fashion,’*’* said the professor. Will he not run by 
himself without further tinkering ? What was the 
transforming operation worth which turned the 
chrysalis into a butterfly saint ? ” 

Christina described in her best way the scene in 
the graveyardo 

That, after all, proves nothing,” said Racer, 
with decision. ‘‘Your hero was worked to a pitch 
of emotion by your influence over him. You admit 
that you urged him strongly to take your sugges- 


A MODERN- STORY OR EVOLUTION. ^41 

tion. He desired greatly to please you, as you 
know quite well. Under the hypnotic power which 
you exercised, unconsciously, he persuaded himself 
that he had experienced a great change. Then you 
confirmed the delusion, if I may so call it, by requir- 
ing him to live up to the hypothesis.** 

How is it that he continues to live the altered 
life when he is out of my reach ? ** she asked. 

How do you know that? You have only his 
own statement, made doubtless to please you,** he 
answered. 

You have never seen him, professor, or you 
would not doubt the truth of what I tell you,** she 
continued. 

Then why are you taking any more trouble ? ** 
he put in promptly. The girl looked down and 
blushed. 

My mother came from that far away region. 
I want to send a message through Bokrie to that 
distant home. There is a thread stretching over 
land and sea which draws me to the country.** 

You don*t mean to tell me that you are going 
to discover it all alone, or, worse still, accompanied 
by that wild fellow?** exclaimed Racer, aghast at 
his own question. 

‘‘I would sacrifice myself if I thought that I 
could accomplish it,** she replied, lifting her face, 
which had cleared from the momentary shame. 


242 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN. 

I never heard so mad a project in all my life/' 
muttered the professor, and then he raised his voice. 
‘‘ Do listen to me, Miss Ruefold ; I have lived 
longer than you have, and that counts for some- 
thing. There is only one rule of life — common 
sense: to do the best possible with things which 
our present senses can grasp. Science, art, litera- 
ture, commerce, handicrafts — all these may be 
weighed and measured. The process and results 
are known. The imagination is a most unsafe 
guide ; it is as lawless as a marsh-light, and will 
land you in a quagmire." 


XVIII. 


The over-seeing heaven is sad with the fading color of the evening, 
but brightens, at the last, with the smile of the afterglow, for it dis- 
covers the secret of a new day. 

When she had lived for a week at Union Vine- 
yard Christina found that the past two years 
receded, and that her varied experience became con- 
densed to a mere episode. Certainly there were 
fresh batches of children in the schoolhouse, and a 
new missionary and his wife had joined the station ; 
but otherwise matters proceeded in the order which 
she had known from childhood. Marcus Ruefold 
conducted the business part of the work much in his 
brothers method, and Christina received a painful 
shock when she entered the room hastily and saw 
the figure bending over her father's desk in the well- 
known attitude. Bokrie was not a favorite in the 
house ; for Mrs. Ruefold objected to those rough 
habits which civilization had not corrected, and 
Christianity had overlooked. 

Marcus expressed a doubt whether Bokrie would 
live to return from his journey; but he contributed 
with Christina to the cost of the expedition. The 
first part of the distance would be by water, in a 


243 


244 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

canoe with native servants, and the fatigue would 
be little. Afterward a path must be struck through 
a belt of forest of unknown breadth. Beyond that 
all was mystery, and Bokrie would have to depend 
upon his instinct, or to rake the ashes of his memory 
for a few facts. Marcus doubted whether threat 
or promise of reward would overcome the fears of 
the porters required for the forest march. He 
picked out the best known men from the neighbor- 
ing villages, and gave them a liberal contract for 
the work, with a large sum in view if they did not 
desert their leader. 

Bokrie discarded his European clothes and 
adopted the dress of a local chief, with an additional 
blanket to make up for the loss of the accustomed 
covering. It took him several days to get a familiar 
acquaintance with his new gear, but it gave him a 
dignity in appearance, for in his European clothes 
he had been always more or less grotesque. He 
came to the mission house on the evening before he 
started. He would be off with the first light on the 
following day. He looked formidable with the 
weapons in his belt, and his lofty figure towered yet 
higher with the plumes in his head-dress. Chris- 
tina could hardly trust herself to speak ; but she 
gave him encouragement in a few broken sentences, 
and repeated the Lord’s Prayer with him. Then 
there was a gap of silence, and she thought he 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 245 

would leave her without finding a word ; but at last 
he spoke. 

Miss Ruefold — Christina, I am going at your 
bidding, and because the Voice has called me to it. 
If I never reach the land — if you get certain news 
of my failure — will you take up the mission? You 
remember the Virgin Mother to whom I knelt as to 
yourself. You were angry with me then ; but it was 
true after all. God works through virgin souls to 
save us. He has worked through you for my good. 
You may save my race if you will only go to them. 
No harm can happen to you; neither man nor gun 
will be required to protect you ; the angels will 
gather about you. Will you promise me ? '' 

The room was very quiet ; she could hear the 
clock chipping off the seconds of earthly life. The 
lamp on the table threw a vast shadow of Bokrie 
against the wall. It seemed as if Death himself 
stood awaiting for him in the background. The 
plain room became a solemn place, and she realized 
th2 meaning of the oath by which she pledged her- 
self as she said faintly, I promise you.'' 

I want you to confirm your promise to me," 
he. said, leaning forward. They were far beyond 
earthly passion ; she understood his meaning ; the 
confirmation was sacramental ; she kissed his cheek. 
Then he passed out of her sight forever. 

When Mrs. Ruefold was told at breakfast that 


246 ' THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

Bokrie had actually gone, she said that she thought 
it was quite as well, for the sake of the new converts. 

What do you mean by that remark ? '' demanded 
her husband. 

He hardly ever came to the church services,*' 
said Mrs. Ruefold. 

I know that," replied Marcus ; but you must 
make some allowance for the man's experience. 
He did not find his God in one of our Ebenezers." 

It is a bad example to the others," his wife 
retorted. If everyone is to worship under his own 
green tree, vjhat is to become of the collection ? " 
Many weeks passed before they had any news of 
Bokrie. It first came in a report from the Catholic 
mission, that the party which had gone forth were 
delayed by the serious illness of their leader. In 
the next account it was stated that he had recovered 
and moved on; afterward, that Bokrie with two 
companions had entered the forest. Then followed 
a blank month. Finally, several members of the 
expedition straggled in with the vague rumor of a 
disaster, and on their heels followed the two faithful 
companions who had stuck to their master to the 
end. By them it was stated that Bokrie was shaken 
by his illness, but he resolved to persevere, although 
the day's march grew shorter and shorter. At last 
they met some big men — hunters — who had come 
into the forest from the other side. These men 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION 247 

were going to attack them, but Bokrie said some 
words to them in a strange language, and they looked 
surprised. Then they treated Bokrie gently, and 
gave him food and shelter. After a few days Bokrie 
talked to the men with ease, and told his negro 
friends that he was soon to die because the language 
of his childhood had come back to him. He gave 
them a skin with written characters upon it, a rude 
gold chain, and the English Bible which he carried 
in his pocket. They were to give these three things 
into the hands of Miss Ruefold, who would reward 
them. Presently, he grew so weak that he could 
not stand, and one morning he begged to be carried 
out of the hut and to be laid at the foot of a great 
tree, where, by looking up, he could see the open 
sky. There, staring for the sunlight, he died, and 
beneath it he was buried. 

The skin was covered with unintelligible marks 
which suggested a message of some kind. On the 
white leaf of the Bible was written in English : 

'' To Christina Ruefold : 

Wear the chain and show the skin. They will 
get for you the good will of my countrymen. The 
promise — my last love. 

'' F. Bokrie.** 

The promise which Christina had given was a 
secret even from Marcus ; but when the news of 


248 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

Bokrie’s fate became known, she revealed her inten- 
tion, and the station was soon ringing with the pro- 
posal. Her old friend, Mrs. Tartilt, came to see her 
in great alarm. 

Dear Christina, I am in fault about this,” she 
began penitently. It was I who told you about 
your mother when I was taking you down to the 
steamer. I was a foolish woman to do so, especially 
as your poor dear father had left you in the dark.” 

I was certain to have heard of it sooner or 
later,” replied Christina. Don't give yourself any 
trouble about it.” 

I can't help troubling, my dear. You have been 
educated so well by your poor father, and have got 
into such nice society. If you had not learned the 
truth about yourself, you would have passed that 
creature Bokrie as if he had been a dancing bear. 
What right had he to cloud your cheerful life? ” 

He is dead, you must remember,” said Christina 
softly. 

And so he ought to be ; a pretty story we have 
heard about him. Now that he is out of the way, 
you can begin life over again, my dear; you are 
young enough to make a fresh beginning.” 

I can't go back to England ; I have worn out 
my welcome there.” 

Then stay here, Christina, and teach in the 
school. It is bad enough here, but wor§e among 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 


249 


savages. Or, if you must have so very religious a 
life, turn Catholic and live with the Sisters, as your 
mother did.” 

Here Mrs. Rueford added her own stock of argu- 
ment. I have not said much to you, Christina,” 
she began, “ because I cannot believe that you have 
seriously resolved to do it. We have lost Zephyr, 
and I want a daughter to be my right hand. I 
want a girl to take into my arms and kiss when the 
heart-ache comes on.” 

Dear aunt, you will make the parting more 
bitter if you talk like that ; perhaps I may be 
spared to come back.” 

And your uncle ; have you thought how he will 
miss you ? He is resting upon your help in his 
work far more than he knows. Then your school, 
the black children — the nice way you have with the 
girls. It seems to me that you are running away 
from duty instead of taking up your cross.” 

** Don't you think it is a heavier cross that I am 
trying to lift ? ” asked the girl. 

^^To speak candidly, I don’t think it is. I can 
quite understand that you find it dull here, but we 
are not staying here forever. In another year 
Marcus will have had enough of it, and we shall go 
home. Or if you must have excitement you can 
have it immediately. That Mr. Gracebroke has 
written to your uncle. He means to come and see 


250 the quickening of CALIBAN: 

you, whether we ask him or not, but it would be 
much nicer to send him an invitation/' 

‘‘ That is the best settlement of the whole diffi- 
culty,” contributed Mrs. Tartilt. Girls are restless 
until they have someone of their own to care for. 
Women must bow down to something. Our Lizzie 
was always following one whim or other until she 
went back to England and married. You, my dear, 
turned your Bokrie into a sort of heathenish 
curate, because you felt, without admitting it even 
to yourself, that he would never grow into a 
husband.” 

Marcus guessed the purpose of Christina before 
she told him. He suggested to her that a party of 
explorers might be glad to avail themselves of her 
co-operation. She stoutly resisted this proposal, 
and said that she would make her way alone. The 
introduction of the ordinary trader would be a 
calamity to the people she wished to serve. The 
Zulu girl had declared that she would not be 
separated from her mistress, and Christina had con- 
sented to take her. That was all the escort she 
required, except the porters, who would carry her 
things, until they met the strangers in the forest. 
Then she would trust herself entirely to them. 

I will go with you through the whole of the 
river journey,” said Marcus. If in the course of 
twelve months no message comes from you, I shall 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 251 

raise a party, follow in your track, and either deliver 
you from captivity or avenge your death/' 

‘‘You think that I am doing right? ” asked Chris- 
tina humbly, when she had got her way. 

“ My child — for you are as dear to me as a child 
of my own — I am contented to stand aside, if it is 
God who has spoken to you." 

“ Don't you think that I shall succeed ? " 

“You may call down the Spirit upon this race as 
you did upon Bokrie," he replied. “ But you will 
not make them the happier for it. It must always 
be so, I suppose. The reconciliation of the lower 
nature with the spiritual is only accomplished after 
a ferment. ‘ The dragons in their slime ' had a 
cheerful day, and, ‘ red in tooth and claw,' fought 
out their quarrels with hardy indifference, and then 
died like dragons. You may succeed. I cannot say. 
Some races, as well as some individuals, drop out by 
the way. They never reach the promised land ; 
their carcasses fall in the wilderness. It is a hard 
climb which this humanity of ours has to make in 
order to disencumber itself of the brute." 


XIX. 


Behind this prism show of earth and air, 

Beneath this web of human thought and ways, 

Throbs the vast ocean that defies our gaze. 

Heaving in solemn darkness ; everywhere 
It flings to shore the argosies of prayer ; 

Questions, like pallid sea-birds, wheel in maze 
Of circling doubt, and ghostly voices raise. 

Wait ! there are signs of change ; earth grows more fair, 

A subtle charm unfolds in land and sea, 

New meanings steal into life’s strange unrest. 

And common toil with dignity invest, 

A sense of something better still to be ; 

God’s answer to the urgent soul’s request, 

The cast up sea — wrack of Eternity. 

During the few days that the barge steamer was 
running up stream, Christina had time to reflect 
upon the sacrifice she was about to make. She 
went through the scenes of the past two years as 
every revolution of the stern wheel carried her away 
from them. The full tide of life still beat in her 
veins, and the world of civilization looked most 
attractive as she was parting with it, probably for- 
ever. The trial of martyrdom must always be 
tedious waiting in cool blood for the signal to enter 
the arena. The lion and the leopard look worse 
when viewed through the chink of the prison door. 

They disembarked at the confluence of the two 

252 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. 253 

rivers and rested in the house of a European before 
starting on their longer voyage by canoe. Christina 
took advantage of this delay to visit the Catholic 
mission and to ask questions about her mother’s 
early life. The Sisters were willing enough to tell 
her all they could remember, and to show her her 
mother’s room, with the crucifix still above the bed, 
and one or two books with her name on the title page. 
There had been many additions to the house during 
the two-and-twenty years, but the strange story had 
always maintained its interest. Several of the older 
Sisters had taught Marie, and the Lady Superior — 
then only a novice — well remembered her. This 
good woman had a long talk with Christina, and was 
disturbed at the course which the girl proposed to 
follow. The news spread through the houses, and 
Christina found herself raised to the pedestal of a 
saint. The younger members wanted her to go on : 
for the love of adventure had not died out of their 
hearts, but the Lady Superior frowned upon this 
levity. 

‘‘ I am grieved, my dear child, that you should 
undertake the journey. It is a wild enterprise in 
which you may easily lose your life. I like your 
enthusiasm, but it needs direction. You want 
repose — to wait for the will of God to be expressed 
distinctly. Stay with us for a time ; suffer the 
truest form of faith to exercise its calming influence 


254 THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

upon you. You shall not be pestered with appeals 
to change the habit of your religion. Your days 
will be passed pleasantly ; you may teach in the 
school, if you like, or visit the sick with the Sisters. 
Come to th^ chapel if you prefer, or stay away if 
you please. The dear Christ will look down upon 
your peaceful sleep every night; the chapel bell 
will wake you every morning. Stay for six months, 
and then decide for yourself. We had your mother 
here ; we have some claim through her upon you.” 

It was a tempting invitation ; the group of build- 
ings seemed bathed in a cloud of peace. Christina 
felt as if an angel barred the way, and Invited her to 
repose. But she took out her pocket Bible, and 
read again the message sent to her by the man lying 
dead in the forest. She unrolled the parchment 
letter ; she fingered the golden ornament, and then 
conquered the temptation. Indeed, after this, she 
was not again troubled with any misgivings. 

Marcus had done all that he could for her com- 
fort, but there was of necessity more privation the 
farther they retreated into the wilderness. The sup- 
plies from the villages were uncertain, and a pro- 
longed picnic on tinned food and tea became mo- 
notonous. It did not, however, affect Christina’s 
spirits. This is better than we shall get later on,” 
she would say to Lucy, when anything went wrong 
with the larder. Marcus, on the other hand, was 


A MODERN STORY OF EVOLUTION. :^"55 

growing more uncomfortable. He felt the responsi- 
bility heavier as he drew near to the reality of part- 
ing with his niece. It was very well to look at it 
from a distance, through the haze of romance, but 
who would acquit him of the charge of having sent 
a delicate girl — his own brother's child — to destruc- 
tion ? The horror of the situation grew upon him 
as the banks closed in upon the narrowing river, and 
the loneliness of the scene impressed them. Once 
they passed a ruined village, wrecked by fire, and 
abandoned. There were bleached bones lying un- 
buried. He shuddered as he thought of the 
creatures who might have wrought this havoc, but 
it was probable that they had crossed the trail of 
an Arab party on a slave hunt. There was a story 
which reached them, and disturbed Marcus still 
more. It was that a white man was following them 
up the river. He had hired a swift canoe, and had 
promised the men double wages if they overtook 
the party in front. At first he thought that it was 
only a ruse to detain them for the sake of his cus- 
tom, but the tale was repeated at another village^ 
and this time more circumstantially. It was said 
that a messenger had been sent forward with a letter 
for the white lady, and that the pursuer was a 
young man who was neither a trader nor an official. 
Marcus hardly believed the story, and thought that 
Christina would probably treat it with indifference. 


25 ^ THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 

To his surprise she accepted it as true, and told 
Marcus that she thought it might be Vincent 
Gracebroke. 

He wrote to me, I remember,*' said Marcus, 

He spoke of coming up to Union Vineyard, but 
I did not take his letter seriously ; the shooting is 
much better on the other coast. What do you say 
to it?*" 

Go on, of course, as fast as we can.** 

I don't want to interfere, miss," said Lucy, but 
he is a nice young man. I saw him for myself at 
the railway station in London. Don't you think he 
might have a chance ? ** 

‘‘ It is kinder to him, Lucy, to avoid seeing him. 
Why, he might be obstinate, and follow us ; then 
his life would be in danger." 

The risk of complication through Gracebroke's 
arrival was the tonic needed to overcome the scru- 
ples which Marcus felt. When they reached a clearer 
space on the bank, which was the landing place, ac- 
cording to the native account, a curious story met 
them. For weeks past men of an unknown race 
had been seen in the neighborhood. They were 
not marauders, but had given the local natives to 
understand that they had arrived from a far country 
to receive a white woman who .was coming up the 
river. This account was given before the advent of 
the voyagers was known. Christina at once declared 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN: 257 

that she would throw herself upon their protection, 
and secure their confidence at the outset. 

A day was spent in making the last arrangements, 
and in writing a few letters. In the afternoon they 
heard that the stranger who had followed them was 
only a few miles away, and would arrive that same 
evening. Christina gave orders to the porters to 
take up their loads. The last words between Chris- 
tina and Marcus were spoken. He stood upon the 
bank for a little while and watched the small band 
file across the open land, until they were lost to view 
among the bushes and broken ground. He thought 
that some dark figures came out of the wood beyond 
to meet them, but of that he could not be certain. 
He directed the canoes to be moored to the opposite 
shore, for he determined to remain near at hand for 
several days. 

An hour later, as the sun was setting, the stranger 
arrived. Marcus watched him from a distance, and 
could recognize Gracebroke in his rough dress and 
sun helmet. Gracebroke put questions to the men 
right and left, and then climbed the hill and swept 
the country with his glass. There was nothing to 
be seen. It was impossible to follow that night, and 
it would be equally hopeless on the morrow. A 
mere dash into the forest might endanger the girl's 
life. He had been wandering from city to city, yet 
he could not forget Christina. The passion which 


25 ^ 


THE QUICKENING OF CALIBAN. 


had driven him after her blended a spiritual want 
with an earthly affection, and the double hunger 
famished him. In her presence he would unsay all 
his unbelief, and enter any heaven she opened for 
him. Bokrie was dead ; there was no other personal 
claim upon her. Had he not almost won her when 
he parted from her at Charing Cross ? He had kept 
up his spirit throughout the long race, and now it 
was too late. As he stood, silent and dejected, the 
sun went down, and the darkness, a black veil, 
slipped suddenly through the fingers of the night. 
The distant scene was lost, and he felt that Christina 
had passed from him forever. With her the hope 
of the Unseen had also gone, and he lifted his face 
to the sky in a last farewell. As he did so a point of 
light stole out of the gloom, and through the black 
mesh of the cloud there floated into sight the liquid 
splendor of a single star. 



THE END. 




















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